A Change In Perspective
by Roozette
Summary: Once there was a potions accident... Ha! Harry turns five, much to the distress of the I don't want to be a Death Eater brigade.
1. Umm What?

A few things about this story….

I have no idea the length yet. Due to the "obligatory potions accident every H/D shipper will eventually write," Harry is going to go through a lot. He'll start off at five, and progress to ten, then fifteen, and finally slip into his sixteen year old self. Why? Because I have many scenes in my head and don't want to write several Potions accident stories. So bite me.

I hate Ron. Sorry, but he annoys the piss out of me. Had to keep him invested in the last story, because it was an AU story set to canon. If that makes any sense. So, in this story I am going to torture him quite a bit before I allow him to befriend Harry again.

Starts at beginning of sixth year, but does NOT follow the book. Draco is not cut out to be a Death Eater, he's far too pretty. I can see him being a dictator, but only if someone hands him the position. I can see him delegating torture and insanity, not following along like a lemming.

Just started my next block of classes, so until I develop a rhythm with my homework my posting will not be quite as often as my last story. I am shooting for one chapter a week, but will always try for more.

I already have the conclusion mapped out in my head, but my Beta has jumped ship. Sadly, Jess is desperately in love with her new puppy and has given up on fanfics for now. (tear) So, I apologize now for all future errors. Anything big, send me a review yelling at me and I will correct it ASAP.

Kisses!

Roo

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"I have an idea."

One head lifted and turned in his direction. The other four students did not acknowledge this contribution in any way, continuing their discussion as it rapidly turned into a full fledged argument. The group of friends had gathered at the Zabini household after learning they were to receive the Dark Mark as their primary Christmas gift this year. After expressing the proper amount of enthusiasm, they gathered to "celebrate"… and suss out if anyone was actually happy about the situation. Two bottles of Fire Whiskey later, they decided befriending Harry Potter was the only way to ensure absolution from their holiday festivities. The problem was, how to you get a boy that has been programmed to curse your existence to suddenly decide to offer help? "I have an idea," he repeated louder.

Draco Malfoy sighed, pausing in his belittlement of his friends' intelligence to send an inquiring look over his shoulder. "Yes, Vincent?"

Vincent Crabbe stood up straight, happy to be the recipient of Draco's attention. "I have an idea."

"Yes," Draco drawled, "we have established that. What we have failed to discuss, however, is WHAT your idea is."

Vince nodded. "Well, we want to get Potter to offer us his protection during the war, right?" The others nodded, Blaise Zabini looking fairly impressed that Crabbe had managed to grasp that much of the conversation. "Why don't we trick him into it?"

Greg Goyle perked up, his expression hopeful. "You mean beat him up until he agrees to help us?"

Blaise groaned, dropping his head in his hands to rub at his temples. "Greg," he began tightly, "we cannot just beat him up. Did you forget for a minute that he ran some sort of vigilante group last year? He could have one of his many hero worshippers curse us without doing more than blinking in our direction."

Pansy Parkinson scowled, glaring at her cup of Fire Whiskey as though it was personally to blame for the owl she had received from her father. "If we had operated a vigilante group under the Headmaster's nose, we would have been expelled for it." She pouted, sipping at her drink absent mindedly. "Potter gets away with everything."

"Yes, Darling," Draco purred, giving Pansy a suggestive smirk. "But that could be in part to the type of spells we would teach a group of impressionable kids. Somehow I cannot see The Golden Boy teaching Unforgivable curses, or offering instruction on precisely which muscles to clench to reduce the amount of pain." Pansy giggled tipsily in agreement, absently flipping through the book of spells at her feet.

"No, not beat him up," Vince spoke up quickly. He didn't often capture the attention of the others, and knew he needed to talk fast before he lost it again. "What is the one class we are guaranteed to have with the Gryffindor's every year?"

When it became clear he was actually waiting for a response to his seemingly rhetorical question, Draco sighed again. "Hmm… I don't know… Potions, maybe?"

Completely missing the sarcasm, Vince nodded, thumping Draco soundly on the back in his enthusiasm. "Exactly! So why don't we slip him a potion or jinx him or something and drag him to the Slytherin common room and force him to listen to us?" He looked at his friends expectantly, proud of his plan.

A shocked silence followed this. "Did you think of this all by yourself?" Blaise sounded more curious than censorious, causing Vince to smile brightly and Draco to nod approvingly. Blaise scratched his head, frowning into the distance. "How would we keep him there, though…"

Greg looked confused. "But we hate Potter. Don't we? Why do we want him to help us?"

The group looked at him incredulously. "Gregory," Pansy began in a saccharine sweet tone of voice. "We're going into our sixth year of school, right?" Greg nodded obediently, still looking rather perplexed. "You remember that man our parents work for?" Her tone was still disturbingly sweet and pleasant. "The dark man that wants to kill people and make us wear horribly unflattering robes and masks guaranteed to cause blemishes?" Greg nodded confidently; he remembered this man. "Well, in case you forgot, we don't want to serve this man."

Greg frowned. "But my father says I do want to serve him."

Pansy nodded, patting him on the back of his hand. "Yes, honey, I know. But we say you don't."

Greg thought about it. He looked around at the people who had protected and befriended him since childhood. It would be awfully boring without them around. He nodded agreeably. Blaise grinned and poured him another drink. Now that they had a tentative plan, it was time to plot in earnest.

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Harry Potter hated Ron Weasley.

Well, maybe not hated him per se, but right this minute he was wishing it was the next day and they were already back at Hogwarts where Harry could hex him without fear of appearing before the full Wizengammit again. Although, maybe a Silencing Spell would work - or a carefully placed Obliviation spell - he really wasn't picky. He looked over, glaring at the figure lying on the bed across the room. Ron had decided this would be the summer he would tell Hermione he loved her. The fact that the girl had laughed, thinking it was a joke, before nicely telling Ron she thought of him more as a brother than a romantic figure had not gone over well. Ron had stood there, before abruptly turning to Harry and demanding to know whether he was involved with Hermione. Harry, having anticipated and feared the confrontation between his two best friends, had calmly told his friend he was gay and continued eating breakfast.

Hermione and the twins had shrieked "I knew it!" before plopping into seats at the table next to him, fully ignoring the fact that Ron stood there gaping like a fish. Ron still had not commented on this new piece of information, and had spent the last week bemoaning the fact that Hermione didn't like him as much as he liked her. Harry felt for Ron, he honestly did; he knew all about having an unrequited love interest. However, tomorrow was the first day of his sixth year of schooling, and after the ending of his fifth year he needed to brace himself to everyone's reactions. He needed to prepare himself for the people who thought he was still an attention seeking prat, a scarred psychopath, whatever. He needed to sleep, damn it!

"GEORGE!" He bellowed; interrupting Ron's running commentary on how if only Hermione had spent part of her summers with him alone versus his entire family she would think of him in a less than brotherly fashion. Harry sincerely doubted this, and was tired of biting his tongue.

Two cracks rent the air, signifying the arrival of the twins. Harry didn't wait for them to ask questions. "You're both seventeen. If you don't find a way to shut your brother up, I'm gonna kill him." Having said his piece, Harry promptly pulled his pillow over his head and ignored the resulting shrieks of protest. Or pain. Whatever. He wondered vaguely whether it was a good thing or bad thing that he found the sound of slightly maniacal laughter soothing.

Now, two days later, sitting at breakfast waiting for McGonagall to pass out their schedules, Ron was still sulking and Harry was still out of sorts. Malfoy and his cronies had not done their traditional meet and greet on the train this year. Course, it could be because after the events in the Department of Mysteries Harry had ensured all their parents were locked up in Azkaban, but still. It was tradition to start off the year ensuring the other made it safely back to school… err… tradition to reaffirm the hatred of each other, that is. And now Malfoy kept smiling at him from across the hall. Not that Harry was looking at him or anything. Much. In fact, after the seventh or eighth time catching his eye, Harry had determined to ignore Malfoy until class.

He was still sitting at the table, staring at his plate, listlessly playing with his food and wondering what Malfoy was doing – purely because he was sure it was something evil or twisted, naturally - when Ron finally asked a question that did not relate to Hermione. "Wonder what our classes will be like. What do you think our first class will be?"

Happy to seize this excuse to glance at the Slytherin table – yep, still smiling – Harry tossed down his fork and straightened. "Potions" he answered confidently.

Hermione nodded in agreement, absently sipping water as she paged through the required books for the year. Ron scowled at her quick agreement and turned a slightly challenging gaze to Harry. "What makes you say that?"

Must not start the year with negative points, must not hex best mate. Harry chanted silently to himself for a moment. "Because Ron, it's Monday." Ron looked blank. Harry sighed. "Haven't you noticed that we start every year, every Monday, with Double Potions with the Slytherin's? It's tradition." Sure enough, the schedules, once in hand, reaffirmed Harry's statement. Ron's scowl deepened. Not wanting to deal with his mood any longer, Harry exchanged commiserating looks with Hermione and nodded towards the door. She caught the hint and stood at once. "Well," Harry began, "we're going to head to Potions early." Ron waved them off, returning to his meal. One last glance at the Slytherin table and they were off.

"It has to get better soon," Hermione sighed, shifting the stack of books in her arms. "I mean honestly, he's not even acting like himself."

Harry thought back to Ron's attitude during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. "Hmm."

"Let me help you with those books Granger." The smooth voice caught them both by surprise, causing Harry and Hermione to jump. A tan hand shot out and caught the jostled books, neatly transferring them to the others arms, even as a smirk danced across full lips. He held out his hand to Hermione. "Blaise Zabini."

She gave him a wary look but accepted his handshake. "Hermione Granger."

"Hermione." Blaise looked thoughtful. "Such an intriguing name." Hermione blushed as Blaise smiled at her again. "May I call you Hermione?"

Hermione eyed the Slytherin crest on his robes. "You realize I am a Muggle born, correct?" Blaise nodded, still smiling persuasively at her. She sniffed and grabbed Harry's arm. "Fine then. Come along Harry, best not be late for class."

Harry thought about reminding her they were already early, but she seemed terribly flustered for some reason so he let it go. Harry jumped as an arm slid through his, turning to gape in shock at Pansy Parkinson. Where had she come from? "Potions is such a dreary class, don't you think?" Harry felt something damp brush against his arm, but didn't think to worry about it as the girl continued talking. "After all, how is knowing how to make a Cheering Potion going to help us in life?" Harry privately agreed, but knew better than to say anything with Hermione within lecturing distance. He settled for smiling at Pansy uncertainly and disengaging his arm from her clutches.

Snape looked up from his desk; his eyes narrowed at the unconventional quartet, but didn't say anything. Harry and Hermione headed straight to their traditional seats, Blaise and Pansy to the Slytherin side of the room, and waited silently for class to begin.

Draco winked at Harry as he glided into class with Crabbe and Goyle seconds before the bell rang. His smirk widened at the predictable way Harry flushed and immediately turned to talk with Granger. Sliding elegantly into the vacant seat next to Pansy, he leaned close under the guise of removing his Potions book from his bag. "Did you do it?"

Pansy nodded, not pausing once or seeming to detract her attention as she copied down Professor's Snape's directions for the potion the class was making today. Draco smirked again, glancing over at Harry only once before standing to collect the ingredients for the days potion. Pansy waited until the noise level in the classroom rose slightly before angling her head in Draco's direction. "I rubbed the potion on his arm," she whispered. "He should be feeling the effects right about…" A loud groan from across the room cut her off.

Harry was bent double. His face was flushed, his body trembling, and he appeared to be having trouble focusing on his surroundings. Right on cue Hermione raised her hand. "Professor Snape? Harry's not feeling well. May I take him to the Hospital Wing?" Snape rolled his eyes, a malicious sneer playing around his mouth as he stalked over to Harry.

What happened next was a random fluke – a comedy of errors not counted upon during the thought process of the Slytherin's manipulation scheme.

Harry lurched backwards as his stomach gave a violent twinge… right into Neville and Ron's work bench. Neville dropped the Rose Hips he was preparing to slice, which fell exactly underneath his bubbling cauldron. The Rose Hips went up in flames, causing a blast of fire which sent their cauldron tipping over. Harry leapt backwards as gracelessly as possible after the hot liquid splashed over him. He yelped, flailing backwards… and straight into the cabinet holding various bottles of completed potions and liquefied ingredients.

The class froze.

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His world was white hot and vibrant.

The light was blinding, even behind his closed eyelids. Harry could hear the echo of shattering around him, could feel little trickles of moisture rolling down his neck and drenching his body. His muscles ached, the parts of his body where the liquid seeped in through scratches from broken glass burning. He wanted to scream, could feel the hysterical edge of it bubbling up in his throat. Long experience had him clenching his jaw, focusing his thoughts to block the urge. It was never a good idea to draw unnecessary attention to himself.

He shifted slightly, and his bright white world became tinted with red.

He preferred the change, to be perfectly honest. He knew from experience that sitting still would only increase the pain, whereas moving about would help the pain shift into a more bearable ache. Even now it was receding. Harry took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He could hear people around him, unfamiliar voices pressing closer to where he lay curled up amongst the shattered remnants of bottles.

Harry opened his eyes on an unfamiliar world. He frowned, absently reaching up to rub his scar. Harry clearly remembered Uncle Vernon yelling at him for something… what…. Dudley had done it. Dudley had thrown a temper tantrum because Aunt Petunia did not have any more cake. It was Dudley's fault he was here! When Uncle Vernon grabbed his arm and dragged him from the kitchen, Harry was sure he was going to be locked into his cupboard for the night. He remembered the door opening… and then glass falling all around him… did Uncle Vernon finally decide to send him away for being such a freak?

Someone had dressed him in clothes that were far too big on him. Bigger, even, than Dudley's old clothes that Aunt Petunia made him wear. Waste not want not, after all. Harry eyed the assembled people, slipping his hands inside the big black block of cloth to slide off the too big shoes and baggy jeans. He needed his legs free to ensure he could escape. "Hello," he offered nervously, hoping the people would be distracted by conversation and not notice his hands fumbling with the clasp of the tent sized robe around his shoulders.

A man was walking forward towards him. Harry eyed him soberly, noting the lanky black hair and angry eyes. Although the man didn't seem mean. He seemed shocked and worried. How Harry knew that, when the man was clearly glaring at him, he had no idea. Somehow, though, he didn't think this man would hurt him. Much. And even angry, Harry noted, the bigger mans face wasn't turning purple like Uncle Vernon's did. Still…

"Mr. Potter." The man's voice was low and cold, making Harry doubt his initial feelings toward the guy. "What have you done to yourself now?" WHAT?? He didn't do anything! This was all Dudley's fault! Harry opened his mouth to protest, only to stop when a large boy with a lot of red hair dropped down beside him and grabbed his arm. Harry winced as his aching muscles protested the move.

"Harry! Are you ok mate?"

Harry did not know who this boy was and right now he didn't care. He was surrounded by people he didn't know and they were just like his family! Only there were more of them. That clinched it. It was bad enough being thrown into a cupboard, no way was he going to stick around to see what kind of punishment these people would think up! He stood up, relieved when the robe slipped off his shoulders to pool on the floor. For a second he thought his legs would buckle, but clenching his teeth and focusing helped again. He pulled his arm out of the redhead's grasp and took a cautious step away. Glancing around, Harry noticed a bunch of teenagers standing completely still and looking at him in confused horror, and the man with the black hair once again moving forward.

In two seconds flat he bolted to the door, out of the classroom, and down the hall. He needed to find a place to hide until he figured out what was going on.

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The minute Harry dashed out the door all Hell broke loose in the classroom.

Snape turned to Hermione and ordered her to collect Potter's map. Vince wasn't sure what good a map would be for finding Harry, but Snape was the teacher. Ron and Neville bellowed Harry's name and ran after him before Snape could stop them. Seamus Finnegan was ordered to get the headmaster, Dean Thomas to collect Professor McGonagall, and Lavender Brown to notify Madame Pomphrey to prepare a private room. Everyone else was told to get the Hell out and go back to their common room where they were to write a fifteen inch essay on proper versus improper uses of Rose Hips, and why foolish Gryffindor's should not be allowed near sharp instruments or fire.

Vince turned to where Draco stood with his mouth hanging open and an expression of utter shock on his face. "So, is the ability to turn into a five year old kind of like being an Animagus?"

Greg looked interested by that. "It would be fun to be a kid whenever you wanted." Vince nodded in agreement.

Draco whirled around and glared at Pansy. "What the HELL did you give him?" he hissed dangerously, mindful to keep his voice low to avoid unnecessary attention. "How the fuck is Potter supposed to help us if he is FIVE YEARS OLD?!?!"

Pansy's eyes were huge in her too pale face. "I didn't give him anything other than what we planned! He was only supposed to get sick with the Slytherin common room as the centralized focal point, so he would only feel better when he was there." She began wringing her hands anxiously as she looked at the pile of shattered glass on the floor. "The potion must have interacted with the other ingredients he crashed into."

Draco nodded, taking deep breaths to calm down. Harry as a kid looked creepily vulnerable. All big green eyes and messy hair. Draco had wanted to cuddle him; a completely unacceptable turn of events. He looked over at the dawdling students before turning back to Vince, Greg, Pansy, and Blaise. "We have to get a hold of him before anyone else does. That's all there is to it."

Nodding in agreement, they huddled together for a moment before gathering their belongings together. Just as they were about to leave McGonagall flew threw the door, having run so fast her tartan hat had flown right off her head.

"What in the world just happened!?"


	2. Trust The Snakes

Oh WOW! thank you for all the reviews/alerts already! I had to do an impromptu happy dance when I saw them all.

Disclaimer still applies. If I had money, I would not be penning this chapter while thinking spiteful thoughts about my idiot teacher. I would be sunning myself on a beach in the Greek Islands.

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Draco walked out the door and immediately turned to the right.

"Why are you going down there?" Greg looked horribly confused. "Our common room is that way" he pointed to the left "isn't it?"

"Yes honey," Pansy slid her arm through Greg's and tugged, propelling him to follow after Draco. "But we're not going to the common room right now."

Greg frowned. "We're not?"

"No honey," Pansy gave Greg another of her disturbingly sweet smiles. "We are going to find Harry."

"Oh." They walked in silence for a minute, scanning the shadows. Greg was very glad Pansy was holding his arm. "Hey Pansy," he stage whispered. "It's really dark here. Are you sure he came this way?" Vince nodded in agreement, puffing out his muscles and looking down his nose intimidating. He had seen that pose in a magazine article: Magical Wizard Bodybuilders Who Can Intimidate Without Saying A Word. Greg looked at Vince enviously. He couldn't quite nail that stance yet.

Blaise walked up to his other side and slapped him on the back. "Gregory, think like a snake. When you wanted to disappear, would you hide in the shadows, or walk into sunlight?"

Greg thought about this. From up a head Draco sighed. "Greg, let me rephrase Blaise's pathetically structured metaphor." Blaise grinned at Draco's back, completely unoffended. "If you were sore and tired, would you go relax around Gryffindor's or Slytherin's?"

"Slytherin's" he answered immediately. Who would want to hang out with Gryffindor's?

"Exactly!" Draco kept walking.

Vince and Greg exchanged befuddled looks. "Hey Draco?" Vince called out hesitantly. "Isn't Harry a Gryffindor though?"

"Course he is." Pansy looked bored with this subject. Greg knew that was his clue to stop talking and obediently clamped his lips together. "However, did you see the way he scanned the room and removed his hindering clothes before running out?" Greg hadn't, he'd been too busy wondering how Harry had turned into a little boy. But he wasn't supposed to ask any more questions, so he nodded. Pansy patted his arm, pleased. "The boy is thinking like a Slytherin. Now we need to find him before the Gryffindor's ruin him again." Greg understood that.

They turned the corner in time to see Harry's little frame disappear through a door. Blaise made a choking noise. "He just went into Professor Snape's personal quarters!" He looked fairly impressed. "Damn, the boy is more Slytherin than even we gave him credit for."

Draco looked pleased. He stepped confidently up to the door and announced "Meddlesome children deserve to be tortured." The door opened.

Pansy tossed her hair as they walked inside. "Honestly. After all the times we've broken into his personal office and rooms you would think he would make harder passwords. Something like, 'I'm so pretty' or 'kittens make me dance.' Anything less predictable."

"Sasha!" Greg exclaimed happily. They all turned, following Greg's gaze, and saw Harry curled up in the bed, sound asleep, with Greg's snake standing guard.

Vince stepped forward, curious to see little boy Harry again, only to freeze when Sasha gave an ominous rattle. Draco sighed, before dragging a chair close to the bed and flopping down on it. "Vince, Greg – you two go stand outside and guard the door. Only Snape can enter." Draco frowned. "Well, him and Dumbledore I guess."

"Why Dumbledore?" Vince asked. "This is Slytherin territory."

"Yes it is," Blaise agreed. "However, Dumbledore loves Harry, right? If Dumbledore is on our side, sees how we are protecting Harry and all, he'll be easier to convince when we say we want protection."

"Oh."

"If your moment of self awareness is quite finished," Draco sounded annoyed that they had dared to question his decision. "Crabbe and Goyle guard the door. Blaise, you go find Severus and bring him here. Pansy, you go rearrange my dorm room and make room for an extra bed." Vince, Greg, and Blaise nodded, walking out the door. Pansy paused, looking troubled.

"You don't seriously think Dumbledore is going to hand over his favorite student to a bunch of snakes, do you?"

"No," Draco admitted reluctantly. "I don't." He looked at the little boy on the bed thoughtfully, noting the snake curled protectively above Harry's head. "However I do think this Harry is not going to feel quite as comfortable around the Gryffindor's as the other Harry does. Remember how much of an insomniac he is? I think this Harry will rather like the dungeons, and will convince Dumbledore to let him stay with us."

Pansy gave Draco a dirty grin. "And how is it, precisely, that you remember his sleeping habits so accurately?"

Draco blushed. "Go away. We'll just bide our time. Then, Harry will come to us."

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Harry woke slowly, as if floating through layers of soft cotton.

He remembered when he was really little, like four, and fell onto the laundry basket while doing the wash. It was like a giant bed, only softer and it smelled really good. Waking up now made him feel about the same; a feeling of well-being cushioning him, like Aunt Petunia's satin pillow cases edged with the softest of lace. Savoring the sensation, Harry lay very still. He could smell smoke, a pleasant, earthy scent, and another fragrance, something a bit darker. Harry enjoyed the mix, and when he opened his eyes his first thought was that he had never been happier in his life.

It lasted only seconds, that sensation of joy and safety, of contentment and peace. Then he shot up in bed, confused, alarmed, lost.

Silently he looked around him, remembering his painful race through the castle. For he knew now it was a castle he was in. What else could it be? People were wearing funny clothes and there were small television sets disguised as pictures hanging on all the walls. In the story books with the colorful pictures his teacher read to him in school, Harry knew that kings with loads of money and workers lived in castles. Uncle Vernon was really mad at how many pounds the store demanded for his telly. Therefore, Harry knew that the king of this castle had to have lots and lots of money to afford so many. He wondered if the man in front of him, staring at him so intently, was the ruler of this domain.

Earlier, when he ran from the classroom, he realized he had a choice to make. Should he turn left or right? To the left the corridor widened and he could see sunlight trickling palely down the hall, casting the faintest of shadows. To his right the corridor narrowed, the darkness becoming sharper and denser. Harry turned right; disappearing in the shadows along the way, imminently relieved when the loud boy with the red hair ran the other way. He felt bad for the girl with the curly hair. She was crying as she ran by. Harry almost called out to her, but there was so much noise, so many potential threats, and he knew he needed to wait until he figured out what all these people expected of him before he came out of hiding.

The snake was sitting in a suit of armor and slithered down when she heard Harry muttering to himself. Harry liked snakes. Whenever Aunt Petunia became sick of the sight of him she would send him outside to work with the flowers. Harry needed to concentrate on this task, because it became painful if he pulled flower stems instead of weeds; no matter how accidental it was. But Harry understood. After all, Aunt Petunia made it quite clear that presentation was important. Maintaining a certain appearance was expected of him. Once he understood the rules, it was much easier to follow along. He explained this to the snakes that basked in the sunlight, and they helped him by tasting the air. They taught Harry the subtle ways flowers smelled and looked different from weeds. They helped him. So when the snake settled on his shoulders and told him to follow the corridor to the door with the silver snake embossed on it, and to whisper a password in order for the door to open, Harry trusted the snake and did what he was told. The snake, Sasha, told Harry the man who lived in this room would make him stop bleeding and feel better. Sasha told Harry to lie down and rest and she would protect him. So Harry slept.

Now three men were in the room, sitting by the fire and away from the snake that rattled a warning whenever they moved suddenly. Harry smiled at Sasha; he knew it had been safe to trust her. One of the men Harry recognized. It was the man with the black hair and the dark eyes that blamed him for making the mess in the other room. The other man was probably the king. He looked really weird, like a wizard named Merlin who taught a boy named Arthur how to pull a sword out of a stone. Harry knew better than to say that out loud, though. Magic wasn't real. Little boys who forgot that spent time locked in the cupboard. The third man had shiny blonde hair and was looking at Harry curiously. He was sitting closer to Harry than the other two and seemed really happy about this. He smiled at Harry. He had a nice smile. Harry smiled back.

"Harry, my boy. Did you have a pleasant rest?"

It was the old one who spoke, the one with the funny hat. Harry regarded him solemnly. He was used to people asking questions they didn't expect an answer to, so he didn't feel bad about ignoring him. "Are you the king of the castle?"

The boy with the shiny hair started laughing. Harry blushed, tensing up, worrying he had said the wrong thing, but relaxed when he saw the old man smile. "No Harry," the mans voice was gentle. "My name is Albus Dumbledore and I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Magic isn't real."

The blonde boy made a weird noise and Harry looked at him, concerned. Had he hurt himself? Before Harry could ask, the dark haired man asked a question. "Mr. Potter, how old do you believe you are?"

"Five," Harry answered hesitantly. "My birthday was in July." The old man smiled at him happily, Harry smiled back bemusedly. This man was happy he'd had a birthday?

The dark haired man's eyes narrowed. "My name," he said firmly, "is Severus Snape. You will address me as Professor or Sir at all times. Is that understood?"

The old man and the blonde frowned at the man, but Harry relaxed immediately. Finally; someone who told him their expectations for behavior! Harry beamed a smile at the man. "Yes sir!"

"I'm Draco." The blonde looked rather petulant at having been ignored for this conversation. "Draco Malfoy." He smiled at Harry again. "Do you like Sasha?"

Harry's eyes went wide. This boy knew Sasha? "How do you know Sasha?"

Draco shrugged. "She belongs to my roommate." Draco straightened his robes, looking around the room unimpressed. "I'm a snake too, you know. A Slytherin. We have many snakes in our dorm. Sasha belongs to my friend Gregory. Foolish boy keeps forgetting to lock her cage. At least she got tired of biting us once she realized my Godfather gave us all copious amounts of anti venom." Harry nodded at the boy, impressed and relieved, although unsure of what exactly he was saying. He liked snakes.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, attracting their attention. "Harry. Now that you have rested, would you be so kind as to accompany me to the Hospital Wing? Professor Snape has healed you as best he can, but I feel it would benefit you if our healer Madame Pomphrey checked you over as well." Instinctively Harry looked at the dark haired man. He nodded at Harry.

"OK." Harry answered quietly, sliding out of bed. He hesitated. "Can Draco come too?"

The Headmaster beamed another smile at Harry. It was rather disturbing how everything Harry said made him happy. "Naturally." He gestured to the door.

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Vincent loved the fact that Gryffindor's were so intimidated by him.

He thought it would be fun to flex the muscles in his arms like the men did in the magazine, but Pansy told him it was more intimidating to stand quiet and still with his arms folded over his chest. It seemed to be working rather well. Harry's friends, Weasley and Granger, were standing a fair distance away from him and Goyle. Weasley looked like he wanted to hit them. Vince hoped he would. It was fun fighting with people. He had some new moves he wanted to try out anyway. He frowned suddenly, remembering that Draco said he must stay by the door. Oh well, maybe he could get Weasley to fight with him later.

The Mud…err… Muggle born witch, Granger, looked worried. Blaise was leaning against the wall and talking to her in a low tone of voice. Vince wanted to tell Granger that this was Blaise's flirting pose, but Pansy had said to be quiet. The sound of the door opening behind him made everyone tense up. Dumbledore came out first, smiling congenially at everyone, followed by Harry and Draco, and lastly, Professor Snape. The Slytherin's immediately all stood up straight.

"Harry!"

Weasley and Granger both rushed forward when they saw him, only Granger noticing the way the little boy tensed up and stopping her movement before she reached him. Weasley pay no attention to Harry's body language, and shoved Draco aside to get to him.

"Don't push my friend!"

Weasley looked flabbergasted, stopping dead in his tracks. "But, Harry… He... I… He's a Slytherin!"

"Twenty point from Gryffindor for assaulting a student." Snape seemed viciously pleased by Weasley's attitude, his smirk growing even more pronounced as Harry moved closer to Draco's side.

"Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger." Dumbledore's voice was patient as he addressed his students. "I am going to accompany Mr. Potter to the Hospital Wing. After dinner tonight, there will be a meeting to determine the best way to resolve this situation. I promise to keep the two of you informed."

Hermione nodded, reaching forward to pull Ron's arm and tug the shocked boy away from Harry. "Thank you, sir." She turned her attention to Harry, giving him a tentative smile. "We'll see you soon, Harry. Ok?"

Harry recognized the girl. She was the one who had been crying when she looked for him earlier. Something told Harry she was nice. "OK," he nodded solemnly. Harry tensed slightly when four students fell into step surrounding him as he followed the old wizard up the hall. He looked around, relaxing as he noticed the snake symbol on their robes. These must be Draco's friends.

Greg piped up from Draco's left. "Are we bringing Harry to the common room?"

"Don't be daft Greg," Draco sighed. "We need to make sure Harry's ok before we let him come home with us." He smiled down at Harry. The boy really was cute.

"Harry honey," Pansy whispered, switching places with Vince and glancing around to make sure Professor Dumbledore wasn't listening. She didn't care if Snape heard; Slytherin's took care of their own. "After the healer has checked you out Professor Dumbledore is going to decide where to put you." She reached down, pretending to ignore his small jump of surprise, and ran her fingers through his hair. She spoke even quieter. "If you get scared, or lonely, or just want to go somewhere safe, you tell people you want them to take you to Draco, ok?"

Harry looked up at the girl. She was being nice to him and she liked snakes. She must be all right. He nodded.

He knew it was safe to trust the snakes.


	3. Measure Of A Man

Discontinued-Me Thanks! I'm going to try to get one more chapter in this week, but then probably not again until Sunday as my work load increases. I promise I will continue to update routinely, though.

Robin Longer chaps are coming; just had to set the stage where it is a foregone conclusion that Draco will take over Harry's care.

Vicki Oh I'm interested. However... how do I get ahold of you?

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far!!!!!

Kisses!

Roo

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"No, no, no. Absolutely not! I forbid it!"

Severus Snape rolled his eyes, tuning out Minerva McGonagall as she hysterically ranted at the headmaster for even entertaining the notion of allowing a young Harry Potter to spend time under Snape's care in the dungeons. At present, the three teachers were huddled together, whispering furiously while they watched Madame Pomphrey examine Harry. It did not escape Severus' notice that every time Pomphrey administered a new potion to Harry the boy would look at him and wait for his nod before obediently downing the contents. Albus caught this reaction as well, which led to him murmuring the possibility out loud in the first place.

His eyes narrowed, watching the boy as he sat quietly and perfectly still on the bed. Harry wasn't like most disgusting children his age. There was a sense of alertness around him, an awareness of his surroundings that seemed somewhat incongruent for a child of five. The way Harry's eyes tracked every move Madame Pomphrey made, only flicking his attention to the closed doors of the wing, where the Slytherin children had been banished, when the healer had her back turned to him. Harry had not said a word of protest when Madame Pomphrey had ordered the kids out. He'd tensed slightly, looking like he was preparing to bolt with them, until Draco told him they would be waiting right outside.

"…just a boy! Needs the comfort and familiarity of routine…"

Snape sighed, wishing Dumbledore would just announce his decision instead of allowing the infuriating old woman to ramble on. He shook his head almost imperceptibly at Harry, relieved when the boy refused the orange potion the healer was trying to press upon him. Without being able to test Harry properly and analyze what components of potions were swimming in his system, Snape did not want him consuming anything that may alter his weakened frame. Tired of the altercation to his left, he jerked his head at Harry before turning back to the professors.

"Get to the point Headmaster." He smoothly spoke over Minerva, ignoring her gasp of outrage. He gestured to the silent boy that had materialized by his side. "Harry is tired and needs his rest."

Dumbledore looked down at Harry, blue eyes twinkling brightly. "Well Harry, I know this has been a long and confusing day for you. I apologize for keeping you in the Hospital Wing all day, but I needed reassurance of your physical well being before we could properly take care of you. How are you feeling now?"

Harry regarded the headmaster silently, the green in his eyes deepening. "Why did I need to drink so many potions?" Snape smirked at Harry's skillful evasion of Dumbledore's question. He rather liked this cute and cautious little boy.

Madame Pomphrey spoke up as she bustled over with yet another potion. "You were slightly malnourished young man, and had to drink four different restorative potions before your magical signature perked up. Then you needed the basic immunization draughts, as a scan showed you had not received any before." She started to move closer to Harry, stopping with a troubled frown as he instinctively stepped closer to Snape. Still not touching the adult, but now within arms reach. Snape and Dumbledore exchanged a poignant look.

Collecting herself, Pomphrey continued. "Before lunch I had you take a calming draught as well as an appetite enhancer." She smiled kindly down at Harry. "Such a serious little man." Harry gave her the ghost of a smile, making no move to get closer to the healer. Pomphrey sighed, distressed that any child would feel wary in her presence. "A couple nourishing potions, another appetite enhancer and you were good through dinner. Now that you've eaten, you're free to go; although I do need to see you tomorrow to measure your weight gain."

Harry nodded. "Yes, ma'am." He turned back to Dumbledore. "Why can't I go with Professor Snape?"

Dumbledore looked down on Harry with a contemplative expression. "Here is my dilemma, Harry. We do not know when you will regain your sixteen year old body, and I want you to be in comfortable and familiar surroundings when the change occurs." Harry waited, not saying a word, his expression neutral. "For now, Harry, you will remain in Gryffindor tower with your peers overnight. Professor McGonagall will be available for any questions or fears you may have." Harry had tensed up, moving fractionally closer to Snape, unable to vocalize the plea not to be abandoned by the man Sasha had assured him would help.

Snape saw the torn expression in Harry's eyes, and rested a hand on his shoulder before he could stop himself. Harry looked startled, but moved just a little but closer. Dumbledore caught the move, his blue eyes warming. "During the day," he continued, "you are free to decide whether to attend class with your friends, or remain with Professor Snape while he attempts to solve your situation."

Green eyes met blue, evaluating, calculating, before Harry nodded. "Excellent!" Dumbledore declared. He stepped closer to Harry, holding out his hand in mute appeal. Harry stared at the hand, then at Severus, and finally Albus' face, before taking a deep breath and sliding his tiny palm into the older wizard's hand.

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Harry didn't feel good.

After dismissing the hovering Slytherin's and leading him to Gryffindor tower, Dumbledore and McGonagall had left Harry with his housemates after ordering them to not pepper Harry with questions and allow him to rest. The Gryffindor's had nearly tripped over each other trying to offer help to Harry. Harry's eyes had gone huge and wary as he backed himself up against a wall looking for a way to escape, and Hermione had taken charge. She had frowned so severely at the clustered children no one dared to approach Harry out of bounds. Taking him by the hand, Hermione had shown him where his bed was and shrunk a pair of pajamas for him to sleep in. She'd waited patiently outside the bathroom while he showered and brushed his teeth and dressed, then helped him into bed where she told him a story about three children overcoming a three headed dog, moving plants, violent chess sets, potions galore, and the spirit of a bad guy in order to save the Sorcerers Stone. Even his room mates had liked the story! Seamus and Dean listened with their mouths hanging open, Neville had fallen off the bed, and Ron had grinned brightly and nodded. He obviously knew this story already. By the time Hermione had kissed him good night, tucked him in, and closed his curtains for privacy, Harry had fallen in love for the first time in his life. He closed his eyes, pretended Hermione was his mum, and drifted to sleep.

His roommates were loud.

Harry had never shared a room with anyone before; as his cupboard was small and comfortable and not big enough for two. This room was big and loud and Harry's head and tummy hurt. Dumbledore had told him to wake up Professor McGonagall if he didn't feel good, but Harry didn't know her. He didn't know what to expect from her. Hermione had been talking with one of the snake boys when he had left Professor Snape's room, and she had been nice to him. From the next bed over Ron gave a particularly loud snore, and Harry crept silently out of bed. He hesitated in the common room, unsure if Hermione would be mad if he went to her, before creeping stealthily to the steps. He froze when the steps twitched and hummed lightly, but relaxed and continued climbing once they stopped. He found her through the second door he entered and sighed with relief over how much quieter it was here. Harry debated with himself silently, then reached out and carefully prodded her shoulder before stepping back quickly. Just in case.

Hermione woke up instantly, as though she had been expecting to be awoken all along. She looked around, wondering what had caught her attention, when she spotted the little boy trembling at her side. She stared at him for a minute, trying to focus her thoughts and remember all that had happened today, watching as his big green eyes welled up with tears. "Harry," she said softly, afraid to scare him. "Baby, are you ok?"

Harry's eyes went huge at the endearment, and his control shattered. "I don't feel good," he whimpered, even as the first tear slid down his cheek. "My head hurts and my tummy hurts and my room is loud and I want my snakes."

She blinked, having no idea who Harry's snakes were, but recognizing his distress. Grabbing her robe and two soft blankets, she got out of bed, picked him up, cuddled him close, and led him down to the common room. They lay on the couch, Hermione rubbing Harry's back and assuring him he would feel better once the potions settled. At his insistence, she promised him they would find his snakes in the morning.

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Harry's bed was empty.

Before he had even consciously absorbed this fact, Ron was out of bed and pounding down the steps to the common room; fully intending to get Hermione for help. Entering the common room, he stopped – staring in shock and jealousy at the sight of Hermione and Harry curled up together, sound asleep on the sofa. Harry barely let Ron near him, but apparently Hermione and the Slytherin's were acceptable. It wasn't fair, damn it! Harry was HIS best mate. What the hell was wrong with him that he was afraid of Ron? How dare he feel safer around Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherin filth?

With ill grace Ron stomped over to the couch, shaking Hermione's shoulder just this side of rough and waking both of them up. He watched Harry closely, observing as he frowned and stiffened before opening his eyes, softening upon seeing Hermione next to him, only to tense up slightly at the sight of Ron looming over the couch. "Time to get up," he said tightly. Harry nodded, his hand tightening slightly in Hermione's hair before she kissed his head and helped him stand.

Harry followed Ron silently up to the dormitory. "You want some help in the shower?"

"No, thank you." Harry's voice was quiet and wary, as though expecting Ron to lash out at him at any moment. This did nothing to improve Ron's disposition.

He nodded curtly, dressing in record time, and was still fuming when Harry emerged from the bathroom, looking slightly lost in his baggy clothes; shrunk, as they were, to fit his diminutive frame. He really was a scrawny kid, Ron reflected. Harry paused in the doorway, offering Ron a shy smile. Ron nodded, half smiling half grimacing in return as he fought down his jealousy and resentment. Everything always happened to Harry! Always! Just once, couldn't they get through a year without all the attention being dumped on Harry?

Ron knew it wasn't Harry's fault, knew Harry couldn't help feeling the way he felt, but Ron had tons of siblings and cousins. Kids liked him! Watching the way Harry's eyes seemed to glow when they landed on Hermione, watching as he hurried to her side and accepted her hand without hesitation, watching the way Harry half flinched when Ron placed a hand on his shoulder… all of it compounded together. Ron could feel his temper boiling up, could feel the flush of frustration on his face, and fought it down as best he could so he wouldn't scare Harry.

He made it to breakfast.

The Slytherin's were waiting outside the Dining Room, standing together off to the side, holding a wrapped parcel. Harry grinned when he saw them, tugging Hermione's hand. "Mione, look! It's my snakes!"

Hermione followed Harry's pointing finger, a soft "oh" of comprehension escaping as she watched Greg Goyle wave enthusiastically at the approaching trio. Harry fidgeted slightly at her side. Smiling, Hermione leaned over and whispered, "no one is going to yell at you for running in the halls, Har Bear." The little boy blinked up at her before a smile broke across his face. Needing no further prompting, he raced down the remaining stairs and across the hall to launch himself at Draco. Ron's teeth clenched together at the easy way Malfoy swung Harry up onto his hip, at the casual way Harry smiled at Pansy when she reached over to ruffle his hair, and the way Harry's giggle carried so brightly across the hall when Blaise earnestly passed on a message to him.

Hermione smiled softly at his side. "Isn't that cute? I have never heard Harry giggle before." She beamed at the Slytherin's as they approached and offered friendly greetings. Ron nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Hermione and Ron escorted Harry into the hall; Harry wide eyed in shocked delight and clutching the package tightly to his chest. "It's for me, Mione. They got it just for me. Nobody else. And Blaise said I don't have to share it neither. Blaise said I can tell people to piss off if I want to. Can I tell them that, Mione?"

She coughed lightly, turning to level a disapproving frown at the Slytherin table. The group of friends were watching Harry closely, clearly eager to see his reaction. At Hermione's look Pansy burst out laughing, Draco grinned, and Blaise held up his hands in supplication with a deceptively innocent expression on his face. "Maybe not in those exact words, Harry. But you can definitely tell them you don't want to share your present either." She sat down at the Gryffindor table, smiling sadly at Harry's reaction to the gift, and began preparing a plate for him.

Harry stood next to the bench, too overwhelmed by the noise, the crowd, the excitement, to sit down. "I've never had a present before, Mione."

She smiled indulgently over at the boy, stroking his soft hair. "Well then you should definitely open it Har Bear."

He nodded solemnly, gazing down at the package wrapped in shiny green paper with silver snitches embossed on it. He ran his hands over the package gently, memorizing its shape, still staring at it intently.

Ron scowled, standing next to Harry and glaring at the offending gift. "I don't think he should have it," he said harshly. Harry's head shot up, his green eyes darkening, only to freeze in place at Ron's expression. Ron was tired of Harry being afraid of him. Harry was his best friend – it was his responsibility to take care of him. Nodding to himself as he resolved his internal debate, Ron reached over and ripped the present out of Harry's hands. "They probably cursed it Hermione. They're all watching him, waiting for him to open it. They probably can't wait to see him get hurt."

Hermione looked over at Harry. His head was lowered, his shoulders stooped, his body shaking and lip trembling as he tried not to cry. She shot to her feet. "Ronald Weasley, you vindictive bastard!" It wasn't until the words left her mouth that she realized she had screamed in the middle of the Dining Hall. During breakfast. With all the teachers in attendance.

Draco stood up from the Slytherin table so fast his chair went flying away from the table and hit the wall with a clatter; Crabbe and Goyle immediately stood as well, expressions thunderous. Surprisingly, half the table stood up as well, wands drawn, ready to follow and support Draco. "Give it back to him," Draco hissed, leaving the table and preparing to stride across the hall. He looked ready to strangle Ron.

Neville Longbottom stood up from across the table, eyes on Harry's little body. "He's just a kid, Ron. He's just a kid but he's still our Harry. You of all people should know the kind of attention he has received from his family." Ron looked at Harry, noting the absolute resignation in his form as he accepted the fact he wasn't going to get his gift after all.

"Fine," he spat out, horribly embarrassed by the attention and oddly betrayed by his supposed friends. "I was only trying to keep him safe." He flung the gift on the table, only getting angrier as Harry flinched at the loud noise. "Let him get hurt then." Reaching down he grabbed his bag, fully preparing to swing it up and over his shoulder before striding out of the hall. But halfway to his shoulder, his bag got caught. On Harry, who was still standing tense and perfect still directly in the path of the bag.

Caught off guard, Harry's little body lurched forward. His head smacked into the corner of the table, turning his body just enough that his face smashed into the seat in front of him. Ron froze in horror, Hermione screamed, and Harry raised his head and looked at Ron. Looked at him with such a sense of bitter betrayal and acceptance that long after Harry ran out of the hall he stood frozen in place.

He didn't feel Hermione slap him, didn't hear the shouting and swearing. He couldn't react as Hermione, Draco, and half the school pelted out the doors after Harry. It wasn't until a hand landed on his shoulder and he turned to look into a pair of no longer twinkling blue eyes that Ron started to shake.

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It was worse than with Uncle Vernon.

Harry expected it from Uncle Vernon; the Dursley's didn't want him. He wasn't part of their family. But Harry had been so happy here; wherever here was. People were nice and treated him like they liked him. Why had Ron hurt him? Harry ran out of the Dining Room and hesitated. There were kids swarming all around, and suddenly Harry couldn't breathe. Without a backward glance he ran out the front door. He could hear people screaming and calling his name, but he couldn't stop. If he stopped, they would get him. They would hurt him. He needed to hide.

He ran straight into the forest.

A tree. He needed a big tree. Uncle Vernon could never reach him when he was up a tree, and Dudley couldn't climb. It was too hard. Even Ripper, Aunt Marge's mean dog couldn't get him when he was up a tree. Harry ran blindly through the trees, looking for the perfect one. Ron was supposed to be his friend. That's what Mione said. Mione said Ron was his friend, and he was sad that Harry didn't recognize him. He had tried to be so good. This morning he knew Ron was upset that he didn't need help so he smiled at him to show he wasn't trying to hurt his feelings. He was five! He knew how to dress himself and get ready without making a mess.

Ron took his present away. Harry absently wiped the blood out of his eyes as he struggled to run as quietly as possible. His heart was pounding frantically in his chest. He didn't mean to be bad; he was just so happy that his snakes had bought him a present. Harry whimpered, curling up in a ball in the shadow of a tree. He wanted his snakes. His snakes wouldn't hurt him.

"You don't belong here, son of man."

Harry looked up wearily, his eyes widening as he saw the figure before him. It had the body of a horse and the face of a man; complete with menacing scowl. It was the last straw for Harry. He just couldn't take anymore.

Harry didn't know where he was. All he knew was he was in a strange place, with people who claimed to know him, telling him everything his family punished him for was real, and not telling him how he was supposed to behave. How could he avoid getting in trouble if they didn't tell him what he needed to do! He knew he would get in trouble, but right now he just couldn't handle anything else. Curling up into a tighter ball Harry started to cry. Great heaving sobs that shook his small frame, choking him in their force to leave his body. He wrapped his arms around himself tightly and said exactly what his friend Pansy had told him to say when he got scared. "I want someone to take me to Draco!"

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It was late afternoon when Bane brought Harry to the edge of the forest. Firenze met him there.

"Traitor," Bane greeted politely.

"Bane," Firenze returned.

Bane hesitated; looking down at the small form huddled in his arms. "Do you know a son of man named Draco?"

Firenze gazed thoughtfully at Harry. "I do. Draco Malfoy."

"Get him, you glorified pet."

In less than five minutes six students raced to the meet the centaur. "I'm Draco Malfoy," a disheveled blonde gasped out.

Bane gave him a level look. "We do not mistreat young foals, Malfoy."

Hermione stepped forward; gaze on Harry's sleeping form, wringing her hands desperately. "Please sir, we wouldn't hurt Harry. It was an accident earlier."

Pansy flipped her hair off her face. "Besides," she added. "None of us like Weasley. We won't let him near Harry."

Greg perked up, raising his hand like he was being called on in class. "Draco and Blaise said we can beat him up later." Vince nodded enthusiastically.

Reluctantly, Bane handed Harry over to Draco. One last quelling look, and he blended back into the forest. Harry woke up only once, glancing around in confusion at the group around him. "Mione?" he asked.

Hermione burst into tears at the sight of the dried blood on his bruised forehead and split lip. She leaned into Blaise, grateful for the comforting arm he wrapped around her waist. "Yeah, Har Bear?"

"I'm sorry I was bad."

Draco had a look of impotent rage on his face. "You weren't bad, Harry." Against his will, his hand slipped around to the nape of Harry's neck, pressing the little face into his neck and rubbing soothingly. Why did this little boy make him feel so damn protective? "Weasley is just an ass."

Pansy reached over and patted Harry's back. "We'll protect you Harry. He won't hurt you ever again."

Harry nodded, yawning, trusting his snakes. He burrowed deeper into Draco's embrace and slipped back into dreams.

The teachers were waiting at the front door. Snape's eyes narrowed at the approaching group of students. "We tried it your way Headmaster." His voice was quiet steel, allowing no room for argument. "The boy stays with me until we figure this out."

Dumbledore smiled, eyes twinkling at the bedraggled kids. "I do believe Harry will be just fine with the Slytherin's Severus." His smile widened as every one of the students, including Hermione, glared at him challengingly as they swept past. "Just fine indeed."

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(cringes) I know, poor Harry. My roommate said I should entitle this chapter "in which Rachel proves she's a bitch and Harry takes the brunt of her frustration towards Ron." But at least he's under the protection of Draco now! So, thoughts...


	4. Placement

DISCLAIMER: (checks) Yep, still poor and pathetic.

WARNING: Harry and Draco are still boys. Woot for slash fans!

RE:Reviews:

1. Yeah! I am so happy you like this so far. Thank you so so much for all the reviews!

2. No, I am not going to vilify all the Gryffindor's. That's far too predictable in stories like this. Instead I am going to use Harry and Hermione to teach Ron to think. Unfortunately for Harry... hopefully you'll still like me after the next chapter...

3. In defense of my Pansy. Rowling took great delight in discussing how Hermione mothered and bossed around Ron and Harry. However, in her haste to make all Slytherin's evil ugly bastards, she forgot to mention that evil ugly bastards are capable of friendships containing the same dynamics. I'm not Rowling; I remembered this.

Kisses!

Roo

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"Every time she goes in her office, she times herself eating a piece of cheese. That's why sometimes she's back in seconds looking pleased, and sometimes it takes her longer and she emerges looking troubled."

Harry pressed his hands over his mouth, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Madame Pomphrey gave him a suspicious look as she brought over another potion for him to drink, but didn't say anything. After coming in from the grounds, Draco had carried Harry all the way to the Hospital Wing. Harry had just woken up from a nap. He was tired, cranky, and not in the mood to be fussed over by a stranger. To solve the problem, Draco settled Harry in his lap, and distracted him by making up stories to explain why the healer had to keep running back and forth; casting diagnostic tests and handing off potions and muttering under her breath. Madame Pomphrey clearly yearned to kick the six teenagers out of her domain, but seeing Harry smile and hearing him giggle persuaded her to allow them to stay.

Pansy leaned forward with a smirk. "Don't lie to the boy Draco." She winked at Harry. "She's practicing her dance steps. Every time she disappears into her office she's practicing her moves for when she whoops it up with the girls." She grinned at Blaise and Hermione. "Show the boy how it's done."

Blaise stood up obligingly and held out his hand to Hermione. She sniffed, lips twitching, shaking her head in refusal. Without missing a beat he leaned over, scooped her up in his arms, and spun around in dizzyingly fast circles. Setting her on her feet, Hermione took two drunken steps, body swaying in oddly graceful yet spasmodic motions, before she tripped over the bed and went sprawling. Madame Pomphrey stuck her head out of her office when the raucous laughter hit her ears, took one look at Harry's flushed face and belly laughs, and left them to it.

Pansy wiped away tears of mirth. "Not quite what I had in mind," she choked out. "But an effective demonstration nonetheless."

Hermione shook her head, still lying half off the bed. "Thanks Blaise," she said dryly.

Blaise smiled down at Hermione, reaching out to gently stroke her hair off her face. "Oh anytime, Hermione." She blushed.

"You're a good dancer Hermione," Vince smiled at her tentatively. "Do you think you would want to dance with me sometime?"

Hermione shifted, bracing her upper torso with her elbows. "I… err… I… Sure Goy…Vince." She smiled at him kindly. "Sure I will. Just not in the Hospital Wing, ok?" Vince nodded, smiling widely. Pansy got a curious expression on her face, but didn't say anything; pulling out her textbooks and distracting herself instead. Hermione wandered over to join her, and the group soon slipped into a comfortable silence interspersed with Draco's whispers and Harry's giggles.

Madame Pomphrey bustled over to the bed holding two more vials of potion. "Now Harry," she began sweetly. "Just these last two for you to drink and then a quick word with the Headmaster and you can go off with your friends."

Harry looked at the potions in the healer's hand. "Professor Snape said not to take that one." He pointed to the orange vial in her left hand. "And I don't want to take any more potions from you." Harry was relieved Draco was sitting with him. He never would have had the courage to tell the lady no without his snake's help!

The healer looked offended. "Harry, I am only giving you these potions for your well being. I wouldn't do anything to harm you. I promised a lot of people I would never deliberately cause harm when I became a healer." She held out the bottle to him with a coaxing smile.

Harry looked at her solemnly, big green eyes oddly intense in his small face as he slowly shook his head no. "Sometimes people break promises without meaning to." He spoke softly, starting to tremble lightly. Draco's arms tightened convulsively around Harry.

"I am certain Professor Snape has his reasons for instructing Harry in which potions to take," he said coldly. "He is, after all, the Potions MASTER of this school." Pomphrey glared at the blonde before turning abruptly on her heel and marching back to her office. She slammed the door.

Harry looked up at Draco in complete shock. His snake not only helped him, but protected him as well! He smiled, a warm unknown feeling fluttering in his tummy. Draco was still upset; Harry could feel him shaking. Without a thought he curled his body closer to his snakes, slipping his arms around Draco's neck and sighing happily when one of Draco's hands rested lightly on the back of his neck and rubbed gently. He felt so very safe with his snake. Hermione felt something shift inside her, watching her little charge cuddle with Draco. She wondered if Draco realized this was the first physical contact little Harry had ever initiated.

Greg suddenly sat up straight, smiling happily. "Hey Harry?" The little boy shifted, keeping himself curled into Draco as he turned his head to look at his new friend. "Do you still want to open your present?" He pulled the slightly rumpled parcel from his dress robes and held it out.

Harry sat up straight, green eyes wide open, looking shocked and thrilled. "You found my present?"

Blaise nodded, looking eager to watch Harry open his gift. "Course we did. You didn't think we would let that red headed oaf stop you from getting your present, did you?" Hermione smacked Blaise lightly on the arm in defense of Ron.

Harry didn't answer, too entranced by the possibility of opening his gift. He pulled at the spell-o-tape gently, not wanting to tear the paper; savoring the special thrill of the unknown. "Merlin," Vince groaned. "Are you this bad at Christmas?"

"I'm very obedient at Christmas." Harry answered without looking up, concentrating hard on the gift in front of him. He missed the confused looks above him.

Hermione smiled gently, moving closer to the bed and resting her elbow on Draco's shoulder as she leaned over to watch. "This is Har Bear's first present." She spoke lightly, eyes wary as she watched the Slytherin's scowl and tense in surprised frustration. Wanting to soothe, she spoke without thinking. "Seems appropriate that his first gift would be from his snakes," she reached over to pet Harry's hair. "Seeing as he likes you all so much already." Concentrating on Harry, she missed the guilty looks exchanged.

A soft gasp drew all their attention. Pansy and Draco had obtained a pass from Snape to head to Hogsmead to purchase… herbs… he needed for a potion. As Prefects, they had the right to be sent on errands from their Head of House, after all. A few quick stops later, and Harry was gazing down in wonder at the fruit of their labor. Brightly colored picture books, magically enchanted with moving pictures and characters that delivered their own lines; a coloring set where the pictures would turn into three dimensional objects after being colored in; some tracing pads with multi-colored ink sets to keep things fun; assorted chocolates and candies; and best yet, Harry's wand, which Vince had nicked after the accident in a surprising show of foresight.

Hermione casually leaned in and removed Harry's wand while Harry was distracted in stammering his thanks and memorizing everything else in the box. "He's five!" she hissed, hiding his wand in her robes. Draco just smirked in response, leaning over to whisper his favorite sweets to Harry.

The arrival of the professors brought a new level of tension to the peaceful atmosphere. Vince and Greg casually stood up and moved to where Draco was sitting with Harry; flanking him without a word. Blaise strolled over and stood with arms crossed behind Pansy and Hermione. Draco stopped whispering and narrowed his eyes, arms tightening protectively around the boy in his arms. Harry looked faintly bewildered as to why his snakes were changing so drastically around people who had been nice to him, but he trusted them and immediately schooled his face into an expressionless mask.

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Dumbledore beamed as he watched the students close rank around Harry. So protective, he mused. A whisper of a thought, slightly manipulative and rather unfair depending on how you analyzed it, flitted through his mind. He looked at Harry, surrounded by people he professed to hate only yesterday. The little boy was trying so hard to look casual, but his green eyes were sparkling with nerves and a desperate plea not to take him away from his friends. The thought in his mind took root and began to blossom. His smile widened. "Harry, you look bright eyed and rested!"

Pansy spoke in a deliberately bland tone of voice. "Yes. Obviously the Gryffindor's were quite successful in managing their charge." Hermione frowned, catching the criticism, opening her mouth to speak. Pansy ignored her. "Calm down Granger. No one blames," she paused, eyes sweeping Dumbledore from head to toe, "you."

Deliberately ignoring the implied insult, Dumbledore spoke cheerfully. "Quite right Miss Granger. You are doing a remarkable job continuing your friendship with our young Mr. Potter." Ignoring the way Pansy rolled her eyes, he smiled at the little boy; eyes analyzing the protective way Draco cuddled him and the easy way Harry rested his head on Draco's shoulder. His eyes gleamed. "Harry, if you could excuse me for a moment, I need to go speak with Madame Pomphrey. I will be out to speak with you in just a moment. I trust you won't mind waiting with the Slytherin children?"

Harry smiled hesitantly at the headmaster. "No, sir, they're my friends."

"Excellent!" Blue eyes twinkling madly, Dumbledore smiled at the suspicious looking teenagers and preceded the teachers into Madame Pomphrey's office. The healer was sitting behind her desk, parchment spread about her, a pensive expression on her face. She looked up when the door opened

"Albus," she exclaimed, relieved to see him. "It's the most unusual thing. I have had to give Harry three more doses of restorative draughts. His body seems to have absorbed them overnight!"

Dumbledore seemed startled but it was Snape who answered. "Absorbed them?" He frowned, thinking furiously. "I wonder if on some level his body is remembering past years of deprivation and storing the nutrients for use at a later date."

Pomphrey beamed in relief at Snape. "I was thinking something very similar, Severus." She rummaged on her desk until she located a parchment and handed it to the headmaster. McGonagall rolled her eyes, took the paper and tapped it with her wand, copying the form in triplicate. Snape accepted his copy from her without a word, already scanning the information. "As you can see," the healer continued anxiously, "Mr. Potter seems to be having an unusual reaction to the medication."

McGonagall looked worried. "He grew two inches and gained six pounds overnight?" She turned to glare at Dumbledore. "I knew you shouldn't have left him with those people! I told you then they were the worst sort of Muggles imaginable!"

Dumbledore sighed, memorizing the parchment before him. "And they saved his life," he insinuated quietly. "Do you not think that had there been a safer alternative I would have left him in the care of one of the families eager to offer young Harry their protection?" He raised his eyebrows, looking at Minerva intently. "Or that, had it been a viable alternative, I would not have brought Harry for protection here at Hogwarts?" He gestured towards the door. "I did what needed to be done to keep Harry safe; and alive. I have spoken with Harry; he understands the need to remain with his family until he is seventeen."

Snape chose this moment to interrupt. "I will begin testing Harry tomorrow to determine how to safely bring him back to his obnoxious sixteen year old self."

"I don't see why you told him not to accept this simple purifying draught from me." Pomphrey looked peeved as she gestured towards the orange flask placed on her desk. "Or why he should see fit to listen to you over me."

Cobalt eyes flashed with hostility. "Foolish woman! We have no idea what mix of ingredients caused Harry to revert to this childlike form. To attempt to strip unknown chemical properties without the proper care can cause untold damage to Harry. I must first determine what caused this reaction before I can rectify the situation."

Pomphrey blushed; insulted that Snape so casually dismissed her expertise as a healer. Dumbledore's soft laughter cut her indignation short. "Relax, Poppy," he inclined his head respectfully towards the woman. "I understand the basis of your concern." He turned a laughing face towards Severus. "However, our Potions master seems slightly more inclined to offer this Harry his protection. I doubt he would knowingly inflict harm on such a fragile child."

Snape flushed, teeth clenching in irritation. His voice was stiff when he replied. "Young Harry has not seen fit to adopt the insufferable arrogance of his father yet. Until that change occurs, I will be happy" he hissed the word "to care for Mr. Potter." Snape glared at the healer. "I do not take my responsibility to the students lightly."

"Now that we have that worked out, best talk to Harry." Dumbledore swept towards the door, holding it open for the women to walk through. He stopped Snape with the lightest of touches on the arm. "It would be a shame," he said brightly, "for Harry to be restored to a fully functioning teenager by Christmas."

Snape's eyes narrowed on Dumbledore's face. "What are you hinting at?"

Dumbledore smiled, looking away. Snape followed his gaze and observed the scene in front of him. Harry was lying on his stomach on one of the beds, Hermione leaning over him and patiently helping him write out his letters. Crabbe and Goyle were watching intently, enthralled at how quickly Harry was picking up the work. Draco, Pansy, and Blaise were huddled together on the next bed, having an intense conversation in low tones that did not carry. Occasionally Harry would look around him at the grouped children and smile softly. He looked the most relaxed Snape had seen him yet as a child.

He turned back to find Dumbledore watching his reaction with that damn twinkle back in his eye. "I am hinting at nothing," he stated simply. "I am simply stating that ALL my students have the right to a happy Christmas."

Snape frowned, turning back to watch the students, observing the way Vince and Greg praised Harry's completed paper and the way Harry seemed to blossom under the other boy's attention. He knew what Dumbledore was cleverly not saying. Wasn't it himself that had passed on the planned Christmas present for these students to Dumbledore in the first place? A calculating gleam briefly lit up his face. "It would be a pity if students assigned to the care of another were not allowed to leave the castle and join their families during the holiday festivities" he answered finally.

A wizened head dipped in agreement. "A pity yes," he agreed. "But nothing an addition of house points and public awards to special services to the school wouldn't soothe over, I'm sure." He laughed softly, looking directly into Snape's eyes. "More the pity our young Harry will be unable to participate in the first Quidditch game of the season," he said blandly. "Tell me Severus, when was the last time Slytherin won the House Cup?"

A wicked smile spread across Snape's face.

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Harry was less than thrilled to leave his friends and accompany the headmaster to his office. He was tense, wondering what he had done wrong. Therefore, he accepted both the cup of tea and the candy; afraid his refusal would lead to a harsher punishment. Was this man going to take him away from his snakes? Harry made sure to place his cup very gently on his saucer, not letting the porcelain clink together more than necessary. He loved the squishy chair he was sitting in, and wanted to bounce and swing his feet. However, he knew this behavior was not acceptable so he sat quiet and still. Waiting for the old man to speak.

"I am sorry for what you experienced this morning, Harry."

He tensed instantly, looking up at the headmaster apprehensively. "Do I have to go back with those people?" His big green eyes were swimming with appeal.

Dumbledore smiled gently. "Do not judge all the Gryffindor's by the actions of one, Harry." He offered Harry another candy. Once again Harry accepted, sucking gently on the sweet, feeling the sugar soothe the mass of nerves in his tummy. "I know you don't remember right now," he continued, "but you have been quite happy living amongst your friends for the past five years. I am sure that had this accident not occurred, you would remain content."

Harry's shoulders drooped. He hadn't been good enough. He was being sent away from his new friends. "Yes, sir," he said quietly, almost choking the words out past the lump in his throat.

Dumbledore observed the bent heat in front of him in silence for a few minutes. "Tell me, Harry, do you know what perception means?"

The little boy frowned, trying to bury his feelings so he could answer. "No. I'm sorry, but I've never heard that before."

He smiled. "Perception is defined as the ability to recognize or appreciate certain qualities about something or someone. Perception is an important part of interacting and learning, but it is especially important for witches and wizards." Harry nodded, struggling to follow along, brow furrowed as he thought deeply about this. Dumbledore's smile widened. "Fawkes," he called quietly.

Harry forgot completely the fact he was not supposed to draw attention to himself around adults and stared at Fawkes, completely entranced by the scarlet plumage and kindly expression. He reached out and stroked the feathers gently, delighting in the texture. Fawkes trilled softly and Harry burst into giggles. He turned back to the headmaster briefly, eyes dancing with laughter. "Fawkes says I have my mum's eyes, but I am far cuter." Still laughing, Harry resumed admiring the bird, petting him softly as he whispered responses to Fawkes' light octaves.

Something flashed in Dumbledore's eyes as he watched the exchange. His tone was light when he responded, however. "Fawkes told you that?" Harry nodded happily, utterly captivated by the massive bird. A gesture from Dumbledore and Fawkes soared over to his perch. Harry looked sad over the move. "When you first saw Fawkes, Harry," Dumbledore continued slowly, eyes calculating as he watched the boy try not to stare longingly at the bird, "what were your first thoughts?"

"He's beautiful." Harry answered promptly. "And nice and he wants to help me." He seemed relieved when Dumbledore beamed and clapped his hands at the answer.

"Precisely!" He praised. "And you came to this opinion using nothing more that your intuition; a level of perception everyone is blessed with at birth." Dumbledore stroked his beard, watching Harry quietly for a moment. "Harry, you are an unusually gifted wizard." Harry blushed, squirming slightly in his chair, clearly uncomfortable being praised for anything. "You have an uncanny ability to love, to feel emotions not only for yourself but for others as well." He paused, watching as Harry studied him. "There was once a time when you didn't know enough about perception to judge it for yourself. You allowed others to formulate your opinions for you."

"I'm sorry." Harry answered instinctively, not wanting to make this man angry with him for something he didn't really understand.

"Oh, don't be sorry, Harry," Dumbledore answered brightly. He handed the boy another candy, watching as he accepted one with less hesitation this time. "Professor Snape would like you to stay with him for the time being," he said casually.

Harry's head shot up, lips parting in surprise. "You're not taking me away from my snakes?" He seemed almost afraid to hope.

"No, Harry, I am not." Harry smiled brilliantly at Dumbledore, looking so innocent and grateful for such a small favor that Dumbledore felt the part of him that regretted Harry's living arrangement clench painfully in response. "I have always held a soft spot for snakes myself." He inclined his head. "Such oft misunderstood creatures."

"I like snakes!" Harry forgot himself and bounced in his seat. "They're nice and they help me and teach me and they don't hurt me." He blushed, remembering, and stopped bouncing in his seat at once.

Blue eyes twinkled at the boy. "Ah, Harry, your level of perception is changing already." Harry looked confused but smiled back nonetheless. This man wasn't taking him away from his snakes! "We will talk of this again." It wasn't a question, but Harry nodded obediently and rose when Dumbledore stood up.

"Yes, sir."

They walked out of the office and down the revolving staircase in companionable silence. Dumbledore paused in the corridor, holding out his hand to Harry. "Before I take you to Professor Snape, you must promise me two things, Harry," he said gravely.

Harry gulped nervously. Would he have to do extra chores? "Yes, sir?"

He leaned close to the boy, delighting when Harry didn't flinch away. Resting his hands on thin shoulders he said, "You must promise to jump at least once on Draco's bed. That boy is far too particular about social niceties."

It took a moment, but once Dumbledore's words sunk in the little boy began laughing. "You said two promises, sir."

Dumbledore smiled, leaning closer and dropping his voice to a whisper. "You must promise not to tell Miss Granger I gave you three pieces of candy before dinner."

Harry jumped up and down lightly before impulsively reaching out and clasping the headmaster's hand. "I promise."

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"What could possibly be taking so long?" Hermione fretted, pacing anxiously back and forth in Snape's office. The teenagers had been on the verge of rebellion when Dumbledore took Harry away from them; only Snape giving them the shadow of a nod restraining them. They had waited approximately five minutes before entering his office. The professor had raised an eyebrow before going back to correcting the essays in front of him, but voiced no protest. The Slytherin's had taken this as implied consent, and Hermione had been too worried to question the matter. Until now.

"Miss Granger." Snape spoke without lifting his head from the parchment in front of him. "Desist that fooling wandering or I will remove you from my office."

Blaise reached out and tugged Hermione into his lap. She went unhappily, stilling as he leaned forward to breathe in her ear. "Relax. If Dumbledore was not going to bring Harry to us then Snape would never have indicated he would."

"He didn't indicate he was!"

"Sure he did," Blaise shrugged. "He nodded."

Hermione looked like she wanted to openly question Blaise's sanity but Pansy looked up just then. "Oi, Grainger." She tossed a piece of parchment at her and resumed flipping absently through her magazine.

She opened the paper and blinked in confusion. "It's a list of names." Draco looked over at Pansy sharply upon hearing this, but made no comment and went back to glaring at the door.

Pansy didn't bother looking up from her magazine. "Memorize them," she said simply.

Hermione frowned down at the list. "But what…"

"You're a smart girl, Granger. Ignorance is vastly unbecoming for you." Pansy finally looked up, giving a pointed look to the parchment in the other girl's hands. "Why would I give you a list of names?"

She frowned, looking at the names more closely. Her eyes widened. "These are families loyal to…"

Blaise cut her off. "Yep, they are." He slid a thankful glance at Pansy, smiling when the girl simply looked amused. "That's Pansy's way of telling you to be careful. Stay away from the students on that list."

Eyes widened further as realization hit. Hermione gave the list a closer look. "But there are so few names on this…does that mean the rest…"

"Snakes bite, kitten." Pansy cut in. "ALL snakes bite. Never forget that. Some are simply more venomous than others." She gave Hermione a bracing look. "If you're going to play with the snakes, stick close to the ones that won't poison you until you're no longer viewed as the interloper."

"Play with snakes?" Hermione looked confused. She looked between Snape's bent head and the gathered students. "But Snape…"

"Right," Draco cut in, giving Hermione a withering look. "We're sitting around waiting for Harry to simply say a quick hello before sending him off with Snape."

"We are?" Greg looked confused. "But you said after the healer made him better we were taking him home." Draco sighed, absently rubbing his temples.

The door opened, admitting Dumbledore and Harry. The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes intensified as he gazed as the ensemble before him. He reached out and placed a gentle hand on Harry's head, waiting until the boy looked at him before speaking. "I will see you in the morning, Harry. Sleep well." He inclined his head to the others. "Have a good evening," he beamed, before walking out the door and shutting it softly behind him.

Harry stood there uncertainly for a minute before walking quickly to Draco and climbing in his lap. Snape still didn't bother looking up from his papers. "He eats his meals with me," he said smoothly, making a violent slashing movement on the parchment before slinging it away in disgust and resignedly grabbing another. "I expect him bathed, dressed, and outside my door at 7:30 in the morning."

"Yes, sir." Draco stood smoothly, automatically adjusting his arms to more comfortably fit Harry against him.

"Good night, sir." Pansy echoed; jerking her head in the direction of the door, indicating to Greg and Vince it was time to leave. They stood obediently and marched out the door.

"Night, sir," Hermione echoed in bewilderment as she was swept out the door with the others. Blaise sent a cheeky grin over his shoulder at the professor before closing the door.

Harry didn't question why he was being carried away from Snape's office. He looked utterly delighted to be surrounded by his snakes. "Are you coming too Mione?"

"Course she is." Blaise reached over to ruffle Harry's hair, grinning as the boy laughed.

Pansy stopped in front of a blank stretch of wall. "Crotalidae." She stepped back, grinning as Harry's eyes went huge when the wall pulled away to reveal an entrance. She gestured grandly, eyes meeting Hermione's in mute challenge even as she smiled for Harry's benefit.

"Welcome to the snake pit."

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Extra points to you if you figure out the password!


	5. Welcome to Hogwarts

This chapter is dedicated to my brilliant reviewers who figured out my challenge!

AnzPotterLover, Legoland, Lyra of the Fallen, Yuki, Queenanneus (PS - you get brownie points AND a hug for thinking my Harry is super cute!), Lady Nyneve (you tried), Mike Goddess (think like a Slytherin! There's no such thing as cheating... you were simply utilizing all available resources :P), Aquila Corax (reviews make my muse sing... ergo, you are directly tied to my success!), Mari, and Scarlet Storm. You guys rock the kazba!

Also, this chapter is looooong. Sorry, but my muse had me write half of this before it would let me write the last chapter; then it kept me up till one thirty in the morning finishing this! (glares at muse).

Kisses, Love, and White Chocolate Macadamia Nut Cookies,

Roo

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Harry loved the Slytherin common room.

His green eyes went impossibly huge as he gazed, fascinated, at the elaborately carved mantelpiece above the fireplace. He sat on every cushion of every leather seat; testing their individual comfort. He ran from chair to chair, feeling the smooth rich cherry wood of the high-backed chairs under his hands. He stopped mid-step to flop himself down on the floor and stare intently at the ceiling, examining the depth and detail of the green lamps above his head and the intricately carved woodwork. But his favorites were the two windows carved into the side of the stone. He walked up to them slowly, cautiously, watching with mouth-opened awe at the fish swimming lazily past. He pressed his hand to the glass and simply stared, only to jump back so fast he nearly fell into the fireplace when a mermaid's hand appeared out of the murky depths and pressed back. Only Blaise's fast reflexes kept Harry from a very painful accident.

Harry looked at Blaise, eyes wild. "What was that?"

Blaise grinned at Harry's reaction, rubbing his back lightly to calm the thudding heart beat under his palm. "That," he said, "was a mermaid." He grinned at Harry's incredulous expression. "No worries bud. The windows are spelled water proof. They can't hurt you."

Harry nodded, making no move to walk closer to the window. A queer expression flitted across his face; his hands rising to massage his upper arms as though they ached. He looked solemnly up at Blaise. "I can't like them," he said.

His little body was tense. Blaise frowned slightly, giving in to the urge and picking Harry up. "Ok," he said simply. "Nobody will ask you to." Harry relaxed fractionally, casting one last look at the figure silhouetted in the window. The mermaid gave a mocking wave before disappearing from sight.

"Weird," Vince said. "It was almost like she knew you or something." Harry shivered, instinctively looking around for Draco.

He appeared by Harry's side, pulling the little boy away from Blaise, patting the trembling back as Harry pressed his face into Draco's neck. "Let's go look at your new bedroom," he said lightly, exchanging puzzled glances with Blaise.

Hermione looked thoughtful as she climbed the steps after the boys. Pansy nudged her arm and gave her an arched look. "It's just," Hermione frowned, casting a troubled look up at Harry. "Do you think deep down he remembers things from his sixteen year old self?"

"Why would he remember a mermaid?" Pansy sounded skeptical. "And why would it frighten him?"

Hermione gave Pansy a conflicted look. "The Tri-Wizard Tournament - second task." Pansy looked startled at this. "The mermaids stopped him from releasing the other prisoners at first."

"Hmm," Pansy murmured, watching Harry analyze his new surroundings. Her eyes narrowed as she realized he was looking for entrances and exits; escape routes if necessary. "We'll talk about it tomorrow." Hermione looked like she wanted to argue. "With Professor Snape," she added. Hermione nodded, satisfied, before pinning on a bright smile and walking over to the boys.

"Hey Pans?" Greg looked around, confused. "I thought you were going to redecorate to make room for Harry?"

Draco and Blaise looked around. The traditional five beds per room set up greeted them. "I did," Pansy announced dismissively, sprawling across Vince's bed. "I redecorated by telling Theodore Nott he wanted to switch rooms." She examined her nails, looking bored. "Really – six beds… in this space? I don't think so. Harry can sleep under the window," she nodded in that direction, meeting anxious green eyes with a smile. "That way he's surrounded by Blaise and Draco if he gets scared, with Greg and Vince guarding the door." She held Harry's stare. "Nobody gets in or out without their knowledge." Pansy saw the exact moment Harry realized he was protected by the way his shoulders relaxed and a mischievous smile lit up his face.

"Hey Draco?" Hermione looked up, smiling, at the deceptively innocent tone of voice. Even at five Harry was a crappy liar to those who knew him well.

"Hmm?"

"Which one's your bed?"

"That one," Draco indicated with a jerk of his head. Harry pounced; running to the bed and jumping up and down. He smiled brilliantly at Draco's expression.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Harry grinned, unrepentant, as he jumped up and down atop Draco's bed. "I'm jumping," he said simply.

"I see that," Draco drawled, snaking out an arm and grabbing Harry. He tipped the shrieking boy upside down, tickling mercilessly while Harry howled with laughter. Draco pretended to drop Harry, subtly maneuvering his arm from around Harry's waist to his knees to avoid a kick to the face from a flailing limb. "Why, may I ask, did you decide to jump on my bed?"

Harry's face was scarlet, tears running down the side of his face as he squirmed and giggled in Draco's embrace. "Because!"

"That's not an answer," Draco warned, dancing his fingers up and down Harry's ribcage. A flash of light caught his attention. Looking up he saw Vince grinning at him, lowering the camera. He arched an eyebrow. "Oh good, proof; just what I need." Smiling he dropped Harry onto the bed, wagging his finger in the boy's face. "Those are silk sheets," he said warningly. "Silk was not meant to be corrupted by those hideous excuses for shoes you are wearing." He cocked his head, considering. "Italian loafers, maybe." He looked closer at Harry. "We need to get you some real clothes."

The bright smile dimmed. "I don't have any money."

Jumping into the conversation, Pansy smiled down at the flushed face boy. "Don't worry about it, handsome. Draco here has oodles of clothes we can shrink to fit you." She smiled wickedly at Draco's dark look, ignoring him in favor of soothing Harry's anxiety. "He loves sharing clothes with his friends." Harry's face lit up at the word, turning a hesitant smile Draco's way. Draco caved, nodding with false enthusiasm. He flipped Pansy off when Harry turned to Hermione. Pansy smirked. "How about a bubble bath before bed?"

Harry shrugged, unimpressed as he played with Hermione's curls. "I've never had a bubble bath before."

Vince stared. "You haven't?" At Harry's head shake he looked utterly baffled. "Why not?"

Another shrug. "They're Dudley's bubbles. Why would Aunt Petunia waste them on me?"

Pansy's mouth tightened. Without a word she marched over to Draco's dresser and rummaged through until she emerged with a pair of boxers. Draco went pink as she stomped off to the bathroom. "Pansy!" he squeaked, looking mortified as Hermione blushed and Blaise rolled off the bed laughing. "What the fuck are you planning?"

She ignored him, returning to the bedroom with two large fluffy towels. "Come along Harry," she held out her hand to the boy, pulling him towards the door. "You're going to take a bath in the Prefect's bathroom. It's like swimming in a warm bubbly pool. You can wear Draco's shorts to swim around in."

Harry followed Pansy obediently, sending one slightly terrified look over his shoulder to Draco. "I don't know how to swim." His eyes filled up with tears when Pansy stopped walking and turned to look at him. "I'm sorry," he whispered miserably. Had he ruined his friendship with the snakes by not knowing how to swim?

Strong arms wrapped around him, comforting Harry as he turned into the embrace. "Don't worry Harry," Draco soothed, rubbing the back of Harry's neck. He pulled back slightly, rubbing at Harry's tears with his thumbs. "You're a Slytherin now," he continued. "When a Slytherin is faced with the unknown we do not crumble under pressure." He smiled at Harry, continuing to rub the nape of his neck. "We either fake our way through it or demand assistance."

Harry hiccupped. 'We do?"

"Yes," Draco said firmly. "We do. However, since you are the littlest snake, you don't demand. Stick with us; we'll teach you how to convince people to do what you want simply by smiling at them." Harry smiled tremulously at Draco. "There you go. Give us five minutes and we'll be ready to go."

"Us?"

"Yes, us," Pansy affirmed, petting his head. She sent a challenging look around the room. "All of us." She looked at Hermione. "You can borrow one of my suits."

Nobody could protest under the weight of Harry's hopeful smile, and ten minutes later found Harry in the Prefect's bathroom; shrieking and hiding behind Draco as Blaise summoned a house elf to bring them food. "What was that?" he whispered loudly.

"That's Dobby, Mr. Harry Potter, sir."

Harry peeked around Draco, staring at the big eyed hopeful looking creature skirting warily around the youngest Malfoy. Dobby gave Harry a hopeful smile, holding out a delicious smelling dessert in offering. "When Dobby heard it was Dobby's friend Harry Potter wanting food, Dobby made Treacle Tart just for Harry Potter."

Harry clung to Draco's leg tightly, sliding around to Draco's side so he could examine the creature closely. He smiled shyly. "You're my friend?"

Protuberant eyes filled with earnest tears. "Oh yes, Harry Potter! Dobby is Harry Potter's friend! Harry Potter is Dobby's bestest friend!"

Harry looked up at Draco. The blonde sighed, absently rubbing Harry's neck. "It's true," he confirmed reluctantly.

Carefully Harry approached the trembling elf; accepting the dessert. He smiled brightly. "Thank you Dobby. I've never had Treacle Tart before, but it smells yummy."

Dobby beamed, skipping in place with his joy. "Oh Harry Potter LOVES Treacle Tart. It's Harry potter's favorite!"

The little boy nodded. It smelled really good; making his mouth water and stomach growl with hunger. He smiled at Dobby again. "Do you want to learn to swim with me?"

The elf gasped, pressing his hands to his chest as he burst into tears. "Oh Harry Potter is as gracious to Dobby as ever! No, Dobby can't be swimming; Dobby is working." He gave Harry a hopeful look. "Can Dobby come visit Harry Potter sometime?"

"Course you can," Harry responded immediately. Dobby beamed happily; disappearing from the room with a pop.

"Well that was disturbing," Pansy intoned. She shook her head, pointing to the changing rooms. "Let's all get changed."

Naturally, they had every single type of bubble the spouts had to offer. Harry, Greg, and Vince were ecstatic to play with the different choices. Blaise conjured a large black cloth to cover the portrait of the mermaid; making Harry smile in relief and Hermione mutter appreciatively about his spell work. By the end of the hour, they were all stuffed, and Harry thought it was the funniest thing in the world to jump off the sides of the pool into Greg or Vince's arms. He would only go into the water holding onto Draco or Hermione, but had a blast clinging to Draco's arms and kicking his feet enthusiastically. Once Blaise explained perception and velocity to him, though, Harry's favorite game quickly became 'kick the bubbles into the girl's hair;' much to their mock despair.

"I'll walk you back to your common room," Blaise announced, holding out Hermione's robe as the others drained the tub and set the rooms to order. Or, at least to a point where Hermione deemed it acceptable to leave the rest to the house elf's.

"Thank you," she smiled, before walking over to where Harry was curled up in Draco's arms half asleep. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Good night, Har Bear. I'll see you in the morning." She gave Draco a probing look; smiling again as she appeared satisfied with whatever she read there. She brushed Harry's hair off his forehead, kissing there as well. "Sweet dreams, baby."

Harry smiled against Draco's shoulder, eyes drooping. "Night Mione," he mumbled.

He was sound asleep when they got back to the common room. Rather than risk waking him, Draco simply spelled his shorts dry and tucked him into bed. He looked pensively down at the tiny body huddled on the bed, fighting the bizarre urge to kiss his forehead or some equally foolish nonsense. He shook his head when Greg slipped a battered stuffed unicorn under Harry's arm before climbing into bed, stared when Vince slipped a cozy blue fleece over Harry's shoulders, and smiled at the picture Harry made once Blaise charmed one of his bedposts to glow warmly.

Draco woke up when a mass of fur hit his face, followed shortly by a trembling body. He looked down into a damp face. "Wazzamutter?"

Harry looked up at Draco. "The potions make my tummy hurt," he said tearfully. Draco grunted, shoving the unicorn out of his face before cuddling the little body closer. He yawned, tucking the fleece throw securely around the thin shoulders, before slipping his hand around Harry's neck and rubbing gently until they both fell asleep.

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Harry woke up with the knowledge he was sleeping on a cloud.

He was so comfortable, so warm, that if his cloud wasn't moving he would probably have slept longer. He opened his eyes slowly, tensing slightly at the unfamiliar surroundings before the knowledge of yesterday's happenings came back to him. He was with his snakes. He was safe. And being as his head was burrowed between Draco's shoulder blades, one arm thrown over his waist, knees tucked securely into Draco's side; his cloud would be waking up soon. Harry smiled, happiness bursting through him like sunshine. He had friends. Friends that liked him and helped him and protected him. He rubbed the furry head of the unicorn pressed tightly against his chest, smiling even wider when sleepy gray eyes opened and blinked at him.

"For the love of God tell me you're not a morning person."

"I'm not a morning person," Harry parroted obediently. He shifted to his knees, bouncing in his excitement. "Draco! It's morning! Wake up!"

Draco groaned, turning onto his back and flinging an arm over his eyes. "I am never having children," he decided, ignoring Harry's giggles. Still not looking at the bouncing little boy he muttered, "call your elf, Potter; I need coffee." He removed his arm from his face when Harry froze at his side before hastily scrambling off the bed. He looked over, concerned, to see the wide green eyes imploring and frightened. "What's wrong?"

"Please don't be mad," Harry begged. "I'm sorry I woke you up. I'll go back to bed, I promise." Eager to make Draco happy, he scampered back to his bed, climbing in and disappearing underneath the blankets.

Draco blinked, bewildered and half asleep. "What the hell? Harry?"

"You called him Potter, dick weed." Blaise muttered irritably, sitting up in bed and glaring blearily in Draco's general vicinity. "How the fuck is he supposed to take it?" Blaise groaned at the clock, staggering out of bed and slamming the bathroom door behind him.

"Come here Harry," Draco sighed. No movement or sound came from Harry's bed. Draco gritted his teeth. "Now."

Slowly, the blankets peeled back and a little body emerged from the relative safety of the bed. Harry dragged his feet but obediently crossed the room until he stood trembling before Draco. Without a word Draco reached out and grabbed Harry. He absently noted that even scared Harry didn't flinch around him, before dragging Harry back into bed with him and covering them both up. He sighed into Harry's soft hair. "Just because I call you Potter doesn't mean I'm mad at you," he said softly. "Even if I was mad at you Harry," he pulled back, wiping away the single tear on Harry's cheek, to look into the little boy's eyes. "Even if I was mad," he repeated, 'you're a Slytherin now. You don't back down if you're not in the wrong. There's a difference between retreating from a fight and giving in. If someone is mad at you, and you have done nothing wrong, then you stay and tell them to back off."

"I didn't mean to make you mad, Draco." Harry sounded forlorn.

"I know you didn't, you cheese head." Absently he rubbed the back of Harry's neck, wondering why that seemed to reassure the boy more than his words did. They lay there, cuddling, until Draco knew he either had to get up or go back to sleep. Sleepily he kissed the messy hair. "Come on," he yawned, "let's get ready for the day."

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Naturally, they dressed him in Slytherin colors. Draco had to look away scowling when he realized he was grinning foolishly at how adorable Harry looked in pressed black trousers, white silk blouse, green and gray tie, and Slytherin crested robe. Pansy charmed the snake on his robe to slither and swirl around, so it was a happy Harry that skipped by Draco's side as they walked to Professor Snape's room. The professor looked up, lips twitching, at the group of sleepy teenagers and bright eyed little boy that met his gaze, but made no comment and walked down the hall.

"Oh here, Harry," Vince yawned, pulling something out of his pocket. "Got this back after you fell asleep last night."

Harry laughed in fascinated delight when he saw the picture. He was in his room, upside down and squirming; face three different shades of red and laughing so hard he was crying. Draco was holding him, mercilessly teasing his ribcage, and smiling brightly at the Harry in the photo. "It moves," he breathed at last. He looked up at Vince solemnly. "Thank you. Can I keep it?" At Vince's nod, Harry pulled his hand out of Draco's grasp and hugged Vince's legs. "This is the nicest thing anyone has ever given me." He beamed at Vince. "I'm really glad you're my friend," he said sincerely.

Vince looked stunned; staring between Harry and the picture. He smiled so hugely Harry thought his face would split in two. "I'm really glad you're my friend, too," he replied, messing up Harry's hair.

Harry was still staring, entranced, at the picture, when Draco suddenly stopped dead at his side. He looked up at Draco curiously, noting the harsh expression on his face, even as Pansy laid her hand on his arm. "Easy, Draco," she murmured quietly. "They are key players in the Order. Best not alienate them all so soon."

He looked over, curious, but didn't see anything unusual. Spotting familiar brown curls amidst a lot of red hair, he pulled his other hand from Draco's grasp and darted forward. "I'm gonna show Mione my picture!" he announced happily. He thought Draco said something, but he didn't hear it as he dashed forward, weaving his way through the bodies until he reached her side.

"MIONE!" He yelled happily, jumping into her arms. He wound his arms and legs around her, hugging fiercely, before pulling back to look at her. "I missed you lots last night! Where were you? Look what Vince gave me! I get to keep it forever and ever!"

She grinned at the little boy, removing the photograph from where Harry had it pressed flush against her eyes and leaning forward to kiss his cheek. "That's a fantastic picture," she praised. "I was in my room last night, Har Bear. I don't sleep in the Sly…" A loud shout cut her off. Turning, Harry looked into the shocked face of a plump woman with short curly red hair. He recognized the girl with long hair at her side. She had been near Mione the other night. He smiled at the girl tentatively, relieved when she smiled back and kept her distance from him.

"Oh Harry, dear!" the older woman looked on the verge of tears, reaching out as though to pluck him from Hermione's arms.

Harry threaded his fingers through Hermione's hair just in case, unspeakably relieved when she tightened her arms around him and kissed his cheek again. "Hello." He smiled shyly, looking around at the freckled faces that suddenly surrounded him.

"Oh just look at you!" the woman exclaimed tearfully. "Dumbledore said, and Ron of course, but to actually see…" she trailed off helplessly. She reached out a hand to him, pausing when his eyes darkened and turned wary. "Are you quite all right darling?"

"I'm fine," Harry answered automatically, eyes scanning the crowd. He saw what he was looking for and relaxed into Hermione. "My snakes are keeping me safe."

"Your snakes…" the woman trailed off, following his gaze to where the Slytherin students waited with Professor Snape; faces expressionless and eyes cautious. Only Snape looked amused at the unfolding scene. And rather expectant. "You're staying with the Slytherin's!" she screeched, utterly shocked.

"Yep," Harry answered cheerfully, beaming as Vince and Greg smiled back at him.

Molly Weasley shook her head, horrified. "Oh no, that will never do." Harry's smile vanished. "You should come home with me. It would be ever so much safer."

"NO!" Harry wailed, horrified at the thought of leaving his snakes. Ignoring the lady's start of surprise, Harry wiggled out of Hermione's arms and raced to Draco; flinging up his arms. Draco picked him up automatically, hugging the little boy close as he continued to gaze dispassionately at the surprised Weasley clan.

"But, Harry," Molly began weakly. "Their father's…"

Pansy lifted an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you suggesting we are carbon copies of our family? Does that mean we should judge you by your son's actions?" She deliberately uncrossed her arms, stroking a hand down the side of Harry's face, satisfied by the color fading from Molly's face as she glimpsed the fading bruises. "Thought so," she replied quietly. Without another word she reached for Harry, plucking him out of Draco's arms. Turning on her heal she marched into the Dining Hall, her friends falling into rank around her.

Snape looked like he was trying not to laugh. "My Slytherin's are slightly less," he paused, observing the faces in front on him; "impulsive." Nodding politely he too swept away.

"I tried to tell you," Hermione said wearily, darting an anxious glance towards the Dining Hall. "The Slytherin kids are really different. They're protecting Harry and don't seem at all interested in Voldemort."

Arthur Weasley, who had up to this point been too startled to speak, looked thoughtful. "Perhaps it will be a good thing for Harry to stay with them." Molly whipped her head around to glare at her husband. He held up his hands soothingly. "Dumbledore knows what he's doing. I suggest we trust his decision until we can talk to him about it." He kissed Ginny's forehead and lightly held his wife's elbow, steering her towards the Headmaster's office. He paused, looking enquiringly over his shoulder at the twins who moved to follow their sister into the Dining Hall.

"We're going to stay here," George said cheerfully.

"Memories of days past, and all," Fred agreed, wiping an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye.

Molly's eyes narrowed in suspicion as she glared hard at her children. George radiated innocence. "Maybe we'll stick around for a few days and make sure Harry's ok." She beamed in approval and left with her husband.

"Yeah," Fred agreed; walking after Ginny and keeping a wary eye on his mother's retreating back. He dropped his voice lower - just in case. "Maybe teach Harry how to properly exact revenge on a Weasley."

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Harry thought school was brilliant.

He stayed with Professor Snape all day. The older man gave Harry a miniature cauldron and several stacks of pre sorted and numbered herbs. Harry had fun watching the various classes come and go while preparing his brew. He concentrated hard, placing the herbs in the pot in the correct order before stirring exactly six times and waiting for ten minutes between each addition. He was rewarded when his cauldron began showering the room in brightly colored lights that bounced around. Professor Snape's lips twitched when Harry ran around the room laughing, trying to catch the brilliantly hued sparks, but he made no comment. Harry thought the class with the Ravenclaw's was the best, though. Snape casually asked who could tell Harry the best story, the winner receiving ten points, and then sat at his desk correcting papers while the students competed with themselves for the entire double period. By lunch time Harry was wide eyed and wired; visions of witches being tickled by fire and men fighting with swords dancing in his head.

After lunch Draco breezed in with an unapologetic smirk in Snape's direction. He picked Harry up and cuddled him without thought, frowning when Harry's eyes drooped shut. He muttered that if all Harry was going to do was sleep then he may as well come to History of Magic with him tomorrow and sleep there. Harry blearily agreed. This opinion was strengthened when he woke up cold and lonely after his nap. Professor Snape directed him into his office, where he softly uttered an apology before pricking Harry's finger and carefully collecting a sampling of blood into a vial. He praised Harry for not crying, gave him a chocolate frog as a reward, and sent him to a corner where a covered box was waiting for him. Harry spent the rest of the day happily whispering to Sasha the snake, curious why the students stayed far away from him. Harry thought Sasha had a nice sounding rattle on her tail.

After dinner Hermione took him to the Gryffindor common room where they were going to work on homework together. She paused outside the portrait of the woman in the pink dress, and knelt down to straighten Harry's robe and smooth his hair. "Do you trust me Harry?" Harry nodded; looking down at the picture clutched in his hand and wishing his snakes were with him. "Harry," Hermione's voice was gentle. "I promise you will be ok here. I won't let anybody hurt you," she continued, "but aside from that nobody here wants to hurt you."

Harry bit his lip, looking between the pink lady and Hermione. "Ok Mione." He straightened his bag on his shoulder, squaring his little shoulders and thrusting his chin out in a move so reminiscent of Draco Hermione couldn't suppress a grin.

She gave him one last searching look before turning to the portrait. "Barong and Rangda," she said firmly. The pink lady waved at Harry, smiling brightly as her painting swung forward. Harry shyly waved back.

Neville, Seamus, and Colin Creevey were amused by the picture books, and took turns reading the summaries which activated the characters to spew out their lines in heavily accented voices. Hermione muttered under her breath about melodramatic fluff, but Dean whispered she was just jealous because her books didn't have any pretty pictures in it. Harry giggled, slapping his hand over his mouth when Hermione gave him a mock severe look.

Parvati Patil and Ginny Weasley helped him write out his numbers and letters, cooing weirdly at him whenever he screwed up his face in concentration. By the time Hermione finished double checking her homework and outlining notes for Harry to use once he was returned to his sixteen year old self, half the girls in Gryffindor were gathered around Harry. "Time to go find your snakes," she announced brightly, biting her lip to hide a smile when Harry hastily began collecting his papers and ink while the girls protested loudly. Before Harry managed to escape he was patted on the head numerous times, his cheeks pinched, chocolate pressed into his hand, and promises to come back soon extracted. It was only when he desperately clung to Hermione, overwhelmed by the seemingly endless sea of people, when Hermione glared and started snapping out orders.

"She was amazing," he breathed to Blaise ten minutes later as they filled up the pool in the Prefect's bathroom. His green eyes were wide and earnest. "Mione said she would start taking away house points and assigning detentions if people didn't back off. Mione said I was not a pet. Why would they think I was a pet, Blaise?"

Blaise grinned at the bubbly boy. "Because you're just too cute, bud."

Harry smiled back, entering the water and holding tightly to Draco as he kicked his feet. Carefully, Draco turned Harry onto his back, keeping one hand firmly planted in the small of Harry's back, the other wrapped around his waist, as he taught Harry to float. It was hard for Harry to relax and trust enough to hold this position for long, and he soon begged for a snack break. Draco helped him out of the pool and to a chair before giving him a stern look. "You are not to come near the water without gaining our attention first. Is that understood?"

"Yes Draco," he agreed solemnly. "Mione said I could get hurt if I try to go to the water by myself."

'That's right," Draco reiterated. Still he hesitated; looking between Harry and the pool. "I could sit with you, if you like."

Green eyes brightened happily. "That's ok, Draco. I'll come play in a minute." Draco stood there for a minute, watching as Blaise tackled a laughing Hermione into the water with a loud splash. Greg and Vince were swimming laps, loudly betting on whom was the fastest, while Pansy floated lazily, idly running her hands through the bubbles. Making up his mind, Draco smiled down at Harry before draping a fluffy towel around his shoulders. He rubbed his hand over the back of Harry's neck fondly, then turned and jumped. Onto Pansy's legs.

Harry relaxed on one of the chairs, munching on crisps while he watched his snakes wrestle and play. "Harry?"

He turned at the tentative greeting, eyes widening at the sight of the tall red head before him. He quickly looked at Draco, but the teenagers were having a full on water fight and hadn't noticed the new arrival. Harry turned back, jumping when he noticed the boy sitting on the chair next to him. "Hi Ron," he said, nervously twisting his fingers into his towel.

Ron grimaced, reaching out to Harry slightly. He dropped his hand when he noticed Harry inching backwards slightly and sighed despondently. "I heard you were in the Gryffindor common room tonight." He smiled hesitantly. "Ginny was mad for you. Said you were simply too cute for words." He shook his head, grimacing. "Girls." His head snapped up, blue eyes looking earnestly at Harry. "Not that you're not cute. You know, for a kid. 'Cause you are. A cute kid, that is." He stopped, looking miserable frustrated.

Harry felt bad for Ron. He didn't like it when anyone was unhappy, it made him feel funny inside. He glanced over at his snakes, reassured they were still there. He frowned, looking up at the red head. Mione said Ron was his friend. Mione said Ron was sad that he didn't remember him. Mione knew the answers to all his questions. Mione knew everything. Harry looked up at Ron shyly. "It's ok," he said. "About earlier. Mione said it was an accident and you didn't really mean to hurt me."

Ron had a weird expression on his face; he blinked his eyes rapidly, looking away. Harry was worried. Did he need to say sorry too? He bit his lip, ready to apologize, when Ron looked back at him. "Thanks Harry." His voice sounded rough. Harry smiled, relieved when Ron smiled back and it wasn't so tense between them.

The red head looked around, eyes sharpening on the kids in the pool. "Do you want to swim for a little bit?" Harry looked at him, smile fading a little. "I mean," Ron rushed on, "I'm a Prefect, like Hermione. I… err… I like to use the pool. We could swim together?" Harry regarded Ron silently, eyes shifting back to his snakes. "I'm allowed to be here," Ron said defensively.

Harry felt bad again. He didn't mean to upset Ron. "I'm not allowed to go near the water without my snakes," he explained.

Once again, Ron looked back at the water. "I'm not a snake," he said eventually, "but I'm still your friend Harry. I'll swim with you."

Green eyes nervously flicked toward the end of the pool again before latching onto the red head. He smiled tremulously. "Ok." It made him feel good over how happy his agreement seemed to make Ron. His friend bounded over to the cubicles to change. Harry waited for a minute, deliberating, then stood up and walked over to the edge of the pool. "Draco," he called. His snake would be upset if he went by the pool without permission.

Draco was in the process of tossing Pansy over his shoulder and didn't hear him. Harry inched closer, eying the water warily. "Draco," he repeated insistently. Greg heard him, looking over and frowning at how close to the edge Harry was. He started swimming towards him. Harry relaxed.

"Ready, Harry?"

The loud cheerful greeting was unexpected. Harry jumped, startled, and turned around swiftly. He turned too fast; his foot sliding on the slippery edge. He saw Ron reaching out to him, horrified, before he toppled back and slid almost silently into the water. He thrashed, shocked and frightened, as his perception of reality changed. The water was warm, and seemed almost alive as the bubbles swirled around him; sucking him deeper into their depths. Harry opened his mouth to scream for Draco, for his snakes to come save him; gagging as the warm water flooded his mouth.

It lasted mere seconds before he felt himself rise to the surface. He choked, still thrashing, spitting water out across Ron's chest as the teen yelled his name desperately. Harry's heart was beating too fast, tears sliding down his face as he struggled to suck in air. He could hear noise all around him; blending together in a confusing mix. Someone was screaming at Ron while Greg was yelling that Harry had been calling for Draco. He could hear loud sobs and hysterical demands for explanations. Harry's head hurt, his throat felt raw, his body still shaking in shock. He didn't want to be in the water anymore.

And then familiar arms slid around him, pulling him out of the water and away from Ron's slightly resistant grasp. Harry started to cry in earnest, responding instinctively to Draco's presence. He was hugged tight, so very tight, but didn't protest as he buried his head in Draco's neck. "My fault, my fault, my fault," Draco chanted, running his hands desperately over Harry; checking for contusions or broken bones. He clutched Harry tighter. "Harry I'm so sorry! I didn't hear… oh God… I'm sorry." Draco shuddered, pressing his forehead against Harry's neck; burying his unholy terror, reassured by the erratic beats of the small boy's heart. .

Harry lifted his head wearily, eyes widening in surprise to find himself settled in Draco's lap in a chair. Pansy appeared out of seemingly nowhere, draping warm dry towels over both of them; rubbing at Harry's hair with a trembling hand. Harry was surprised to discover Draco was shaking almost as badly as he was. "It's ok, Draco," he said roughly; wincing as the words burned past his throat. "I just wanted to tell you I was going to go swimming with Ron." He turned tired but pleading eyes to Draco. "I didn't want you to be mad at me. Please don't be mad at me." His shoulders slumped, weary and dejected. "You can call me Potter again if you want to."

Draco stared at him for a solid minute without saying a word before leaning over and kissing Harry's forehead. "I'm not mad at you Harry." Draco's voice sounded as rough as Harry's did. "It's just… God Harry if you had…" He stopped, closing his eyes as he pulled Harry closer. Harry closed his eyes too, feeling secure and safe sheltered in Draco's arms.

He kept his eyes closed as he felt Draco take a deep deep breath. Then another. His eyes popped open, worried and shocked, when he heard his snake speak.

"Weasley, I think we need to talk."

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OK, I am almost done having Ron accidentally torture Harry. At age 5. I have to tell you, the conversation between the Slytherins and Ron? I giggled. Halfway done with next chapter... I'll update as fast a I can if someone can figure out the symbolism with the Gryffindor password. I love review challenges! (shrug) I already warned you I was a nerd.


	6. Warmth

Yeah! This chapter, and Chapter 10 (which I wrote last night and am ridiculously pleased with) are dedicated to Someone Just For Me, SaKuRa-MIna, and MikeGoddess for figuring out my challenge!!! Woot! Ok, that's the extent of my nerdiness - for now :)

Also, to my fellow Ron dislikers... I did promise not to let him hurt Harry anymore. At age 5. However, I will NOT be moving him in with the snakes. Unless my muse really decides to hate me.

Mikkpisst - Yes, issue will be addressed. Once Harry is ten. The concept of abuse is slightly confusing for a five year old to grasp.

History - Yeah! I like my Greg and Vince too! They are always just lumped together... just kind of there. What is the point of having two versatile characters if you do NOTHING with them? At least I'm trying.

Thank you to EVERYONE who has reviewed! I love reading them all! Twins are coming in chapter 7...

Roo

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"You can't stay there overnight!"

Hermione glared, shoving her damp curls out of her face. "Watch me."

Ron looked utterly flabbergasted. "But, Hermione… you just can't – they're Slytherins. It's not safe!"

She gestured to the chair where Draco sat holding a clinging little boy. "I can't leave him tonight, Ron," she said fiercely. "Not after this. I need to be there in case he wakes up scared."

"Then bring him back to the Gryffindor common room! We'll take care of him better!"

It was the wrong thing to say. Emotions were heightened, nerves were on edge, and the Slytherins were smart enough to catch the implied insult. "Weasley," Draco began in an icily polite tone of voice. "You do realize you are standing unarmed, in a bathroom, with no teachers around, surrounded by people you openly admit fearing?"

The red head looked around, taking a cautious half step in retreat. Pansy was standing next to Draco, absently rubbing circles on Harry's shaking back. Greg and Vince were standing between the spot where Ron was fighting with Hermione and where the two teens sat soothing Harry. Their stances looked relaxed, but their eyes were alert; like it would take but a word for them to jump him. Blaise was standing behind Hermione, making no move to hide his hostility. Hermione sighed, holding up her hands as though separating invisible opponents. "Look, I know we all need to talk, but I don't think we should talk tonight." She looked over at Harry's small body, relieved to see his grip on Draco loosening as his body relaxed. She took a calming breath. "Let's not say anything about this situation to anyone. We'll meet up tomorrow and talk then. When we're calmer and have had a bit of sleep."

"Very Slytherin-esque logic," Pansy said approvingly. "Covers your back and let's you maintain a semblance of control over an uncontrollable environment." She smirked at Hermione, shaking her head. "Only hanging around us for two days and already you're thinking smarter."

"Hermione is really smart," Vince piped up. Greg smiled brightly in agreement and nodded earnestly by his side.

"Thank you guys," Hermione smiled weakly. She turned back to Ron, feeling her heart twitch at his conflicted expression. Without thought she reached out and patted his arm, giving him a sickly smile as he raised his head and looked at her. "Ron," she said gently, "I know this wasn't your fault." She took a deep breath, forcing herself to continue. "However, you have to learn to think before you act or speak."

"Think!" he exploded; not noticing the way Harry flinched and tightened his hold on Draco. "I think! I was just going to…"

"I know," she said hastily, wanting to soothe. "I know you do. But when it comes to Harry…" she gestured helplessly to the now quietly crying boy, cringing as she watched Ron's face fall as realization dawned. "When it comes to Harry you stop thinking. You… you…. I don't know. You feel threatened and get jealous and make rash impulsive decisions without thought to reactions or consequences."

Draco snorted, smoothly rising to his feet. "Doesn't take much for Weasley to forget to think." He frowned when Pansy elbowed him in the side, sighing as he understood the implications behind her warning look. He turned to Hermione. "Granger, I'm taking Harry back to our room. Vince, Greg; stay with her and escort her back safely. No," he turned to Blaise, answering his unspoken protest. "Greg and Vince will stay. You're too," he glanced meaningfully over to where Hermione stood next to Ron, "personally invested in this argument. You're coming with us."

Pansy walked over to Blaise, gripping his arm in a vice-like grip and smiling her disturbingly sweet smile. "Come along darling. Draco's distracted. We need a strong handsome escort to make sure we get home safely." Draco scowled at Pansy, tightening his hold on Harry. Blaise gave an oddly reluctant look at Hermione, but tripped along after Pansy as she hauled him out the door.

Ron opened his mouth after the Slytherin kids disappeared; shutting it swiftly and clenching his jaw when his eyes landed on the pool. Tentatively she reached out and grabbed his hand, relieved when Ron turned his hand over and entwined their fingers together. "We've been friends for so long," he began helplessly. "This summer, this week… it's like you and Harry are just gone."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears. She was suddenly and acutely grateful that Greg and Vince knew when not to speak. "We're not gone, Ron." She spoke quietly, afraid to shatter their tentative peace. "Harry can't help feeling the way he does." She paused. "I can't either." Her heart hurt when Ron turned to look at her. "Harry grew up in a situation continuously beyond his control. From what Harry has said over the years, from what you have told me as well, I think Harry was neglected, and degraded, and used as the scapegoat for every wrong doing or irregularity that occurred. He was punished for being himself, Ron, and I think Harry learned to appreciate caution." Hermione smiled sadly. "Who's more cautious than the Slytherins? I think he's latched onto them so desperately because he relates to them so strongly."

"Bars on his window," Ron said suddenly. He turned to look at Hermione, squeezing her hand tighter. "When my brothers and I went to see him before second year there were bars on his window." They stood quietly for a minute; Ron deep in thought. Hermione knew her friend well enough by this point to let him think it out. "OK," he said finally. "I can wait until tomorrow to talk about what we're going to do with Harry." He turned pleading blue eyes on Hermione. "Just please don't shut me out again. It's only been two days and I already feel like I'm completely alone."

Impulsively, she reached up and hugged him. "You're not alone Ron," she said fiercely, protectively. "We may be… different… this year, but we're still friends." She stepped back, smiling encouragingly. Only to choke back a laugh as Greg and Vince suddenly wrapped Ron in a hug as well.

"Harry said he's our friend now," Greg announced. "That makes you our friend too."

Vince nodded. "We promise not to beat you up until Draco says to."

"I…err… thanks guys. Thanks. That's, umm, really nice of you." Ron looked alarmed.

Hermione gave up and burst out laughing. "See Ron," she said brightly. "Harry's snakes aren't so bad after all!"

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"You're not eating your breakfast."

Harry looked up, startled, to see Professor Snape frowning at him. Nervously, he glanced at his snakes; reassured when Draco looked back and smiled at him. It had been "suggested" to Harry that he not divulge the events of last night to anyone until his snakes talked with Ron after dinner and figured out what to do. Harry trusted his snakes, and solemnly promised without hesitation. Besides, he didn't really remember much from last night after Draco calmed him down. There were blurry images in his head. He didn't know when or how he got back to his room, but this morning he woke up snuggled between Draco and Mione, and looked over to see Pansy asleep in his bed. It made Harry happy that his snakes had stayed close to him last night, making sure he was safe and physically fine. Harry was desperately afraid that if he didn't do as suggested then the adults would take him away from his snakes. He cringed just thinking that.

Green eyes stared fixedly at the table as Harry wondered what Draco would say. "My throat hurts," he said; answering both honestly and evasively. It was true. Harry had woken up this morning aching from head to toe with his throat on fire. He had obediently gotten up and dressed when asked to, but allowed Mione to carry him instead of walking from the dungeons to the Dining Hall. Miserably Harry stared down at his plate. Just once he wanted to stay in bed and do nothing when he didn't feel good. Now, just like at home, he was going to get in trouble for being ungrateful over the food he was given.

He jumped, staring in absolute shock when the teacher pressed his cool palm to Harry's head. He looked distressed; worried over Harry's well being. It was a novelty concept. "You're a little flushed," Snape said shortly, sliding his hand from Harry's forehead to check his throat. "Your glands are inflamed as well." He placed two fingers over the pulse point on Harry's neck, and narrowed his eyes at Harry as he fired off questions. "Have you vomited? Any unusual bowel activity? Do you have a rash or any other skin irritations?"

Harry went crimson. He knew he wasn't supposed to get sick to begin with, but to talk about the icky stuff associated with illness… that just was not on. It was bad enough Harry sat at the Head Table during meals. Not that he minded sitting next to Professor Snape – the man was a snake and his friend, after all – but everybody could see him. It was really hard to remember not to fidget or draw unnecessary amounts of attention. Harry could not help it! Things just always seemed to happen to him. "No, sir," he mumbled, desperately mortified. "Just my head and throat, sir. " He closed his eyes. Maybe when he opened them again he would be back in bed and Draco would rub his neck until he fell asleep.

Snape gave a penetrating look at the little boy, before reaching over and dishing up a bowl of porridge; adding sugar and milk for a sweeter, smoother consistency. "How old are you Harry?"

Startled, Harry opened his eyes and looked at the man. "I'm five, sir," he said; confused. "I told you my birthday was in July. Remember?"

Lips twitched in response, but Snape merely turned a mildly curious expression to the little boy. "Indeed you did." Smoothly he pushed Harry's nearly full plate away and slid the bowl in its place. "Then I expect you to take no less than five bites of your porridge."

Harry sighed, reaching up to absently rub at his scar and fighting down the urge to cry. "Yes, sir." Obediently he lifted his spoon to his mouth, pleasantly surprised that the oatmeal was easier to swallow and digest than the fried potatoes. He sighed again, dropping his aching head on Snape's shoulder when the professor wrapped an arm around him. It was going to be a long day.

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Professor Snape gave Hermione a bland look when she walked through the classroom door as the bell for first block rang out. "Perhaps you are operating under the effects of a Confoundus Charm, Miss Granger. Today is Wednesday. I am not forced to put up with you until my second class after lunch."

Hermione smiled sweetly at her teacher, stomach clenching painfully at the thought he might deny her entrance. "I am ahead in my classes, sir, and have a reliable source obtaining notes for my classes through lunch. I wanted to spend time with Harry, sir. He," she paused, scrambling for words. "He's not feeling well today."

Black eyes narrowed on her nervously smiling face. Hermione fought not to squirm. "And who, may I ask, is your reliable source?"

"Pansy Parkinson, Sir,"

A look of faint amusement spread across his face before once again smoothing into indifference. "I was not aware the Slytherin students were forced to share all classes with Gryffindors."

"They're not, sir." Hermione widened her eyes innocently. "Pansy said it would take her less than two minutes to figure out my class schedule, and less time than that to procure carefully copied notes and a list of missed assignments from some of her… acquaintances."

It took several seconds for Snape to successfully fight down the smirk threatening to break across his face. "Ten points…" he gave up and smirked in satisfaction. "To Slytherin; for taking the initiative to help a student in need." He jerked his head towards his office. "I gave him several potions this morning. He's resting." Hermione smiled, turning to walk away. "Oh, Miss Granger?" Hermione turned back, unhesitatingly, at his mild tone of voice. "I will find out why there was water in his lungs this morning." She blanched, taking a nervous step backwards under his suddenly furious gaze. "Remember that Dumbledore assigned me as his officially appointed guardian for the duration of this contamination. Accidents happen to the most careful of individuals. Failing to recognize the need for assistance from a capable adult speaks of bad judgment, as well as the lamentable arrogance teenagers are associated with. Future lapses in cognitive thought will neither be accepted nor overlooked." He looked into her terrified face evenly. "Is that understood, Miss Granger?"

"Y…" she cleared her suddenly dry throat. "Yes, sir." One last penetrating look, and Snape swept away to begin his class; leaving Hermione standing foolishly half turned towards the office and half turned to a now empty spot. She gathered herself quickly, reaching out to open the office with a trembling hand, cursing herself anew when she saw the small bundle curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace. Harry was so small, so defenseless, so innocent and reliant on the adults he trusted to keep him safe. Last night… she shuddered, blocking the thought. It could have been disastrous, deadly. Whether or she liked it or not, Harry considered Professor Snape one of his snakes. She would do well not to forget that.

Kicking off her shoes, she lay down and wrapped her arm around Harry, pulling his small body close and kissing his warmer than usual forehead. Green eyes fluttered open, dark with sleep, confusion, and lingering pain. "Mummy?"

Something warm and powerful swept through Hermione. Since age eleven she had loved Harry with a fiercely protective intensity she did not always understand. Her parents had analyzed her behavior, cautioning her against allowing Harry to become too dependant upon her; reminding her she was a child herself and to stop trying to mother her new friend. Even with their warnings ringing in her ears, Hermione had fought time and again; unable to resist or explain her behavior. Sacrificing her unquenchable need for logic to help Harry, always. Putting her safety and personal well being on the back burner so Harry knew he was not alone with the problems life continuously threw at him. "Yes, Har Bear," she whispered, "it's your Mione." She couldn't bring herself to call herself his Mum. Who knew what he would remember when he was returned to sixteen? But as she watched those brilliant green eyes sparkle before drifting shut, saw the soft smile that slipped across his face, and reveled in the trusting way he rubbed his cheek against her hair; Hermione couldn't bring herself to correct his momentary lapse in greeting either.

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Draco didn't bother offering an excuse as he entered the dungeons. He paused on his way to the office, annoyed, when Snape lifted an eyebrow and sent him The Look. The look that clearly said, "Defy me and ye shall suffer." So Draco settled himself irritably by the desk, sneering absently at the fourth year Hufflepuff's as he waited for the professor to stop terrorizing the class and acknowledge him. He was pouting, shooting increasingly anxious looks at the closed door of the office, when Snape stopped directly in front of him. He lifted an eyebrow. Draco lifted one right back. He wasn't going to crack first.

"Last night," Snape finally uttered. It was not phrased as a question.

Gray eyes instantly turned wary. "Spun slightly put of hand," he agreed. "The situation will be resolved today."

Snape considered this. He leaned fractionally closer to Draco; satisfied when the blonde tensed and swallowed convulsively. "To allow young Harry to sleep in the Slytherin dormitories is mutually beneficial. I do not have to deal with the realities of daily life with a child, and you receive the opportunity to learn lessons not taught in a classroom." Snape paused deliberately, watching his Godson intently. When he spoke again his voice was quiet and lined with menace. "Endanger his safety again and I will remove him from your presence." Draco's head snapped up, eyes darkening with emotion.

He stepped to the side of Draco, smoothly walking around and settling himself behind his desk to begin correcting papers. "You can't…" Draco began heatedly.

"Ah, but I can," Snape replied smoothly.

"It was an accid…"

"An accident?" Snape hissed out the word. "I would believe an accident from a Gryffindor, but you," he shook his head, lowering his voice until Draco had to lean over the desk to hear him. "You of all people know what is at stake if a Slytherin harms The Boy Who Lived." Snape gave a viciously satisfied smile as Draco jerked back in shock. "As individual a group your friends are, they undoubtedly look to you for guidance."

Heat flooded Draco's cheeks. He felt angry and chastened and foolish. He did not like it. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Whatever it is you determine it to mean," Snape answered, looking down and turning his attention to the papers before him. Draco scowled at him, starting to step away when Snape's soft voice made him pause and turn back. "Draco? I've noticed you and your friends signed up to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas." Draco stiffened apprehensively. Snape continued grading his papers. "It would be a shame if your role as caregiver was no longer necessary or expected." Draco stood there, furious and shaking. Snape did not look up. "You're dismissed."

Furious, Draco stalked over to the office door and flung it open; fighting an irrational sense of jealousy at the sight of Harry cuddled up on the couch playing with Hermione's hair. He slammed the door behind him. Harry snatched back his extended hand and froze at the invasion. Hermione settled her hand on Harry's head, stroking soothingly as laughing eyes went cautious. She didn't have to be a seer to realize Snape had delivered a warning similar to hers to Draco. Harry shot to his feet, hurrying to Draco's side; pausing just out of reach. "I'm sorry I got sick Draco," he said anxiously. "I won't do it again. I promise."

He forced himself to close his eyes, take in a deep breath. Why should it matter if Snape took Harry away from him? It's not like they were friends or anything. The Slytherins simply needed Harry to give them a chance and protect them during the upcoming war. During Christmas, especially. He opened his eyes, reaching for Harry, refusing to acknowledge the warmth that spread through his chest when Harry launched himself into his arms and clung tight. Harry was an adorable child. It was perfectly natural to feel protective and slightly possessive. "I'm not mad at you, you cheese head. I simply had a frustrating morning." He smiled at the little boy, absently reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "You can't help getting sick Harry. Nobody will ever be mad at you for that." Yes, Draco thought, it was perfectly natural to feel pleased with himself for being able to make Harry smile.

Harry lifted his head, bringing his hands up to Draco's cheeks and turning until their noses were practically pressed together. "I'll help you with your homework Draco," he said earnestly. "Mione says I'm awfully smart and a quick learner. I won't mess up."

Draco smiled, pulling back far enough to stop himself from going cross eyed. "I'm sure you wouldn't Harry." Harry still looked uncertain, clinging to Draco just a little too tight. "I'm not mad at you, Harry," he repeated. "Why would I be mad that you were sick?"

Green eyes dulled, became shuttered. Harry shrugged, dropping his forehead into the curve of Draco's neck. "Because then I'm useless," he whispered. He flinched when Draco stiffened and Hermione's gasp echoed through the office.

"Why would you be useless?" Draco kept his tone calm; belying the anger coursing through him at the simple words.

The little body started to shake against him, hands opening and closing over Draco's robes. "Cause then I can't do my chores, and I'm messy, and sometimes…" Draco could feel Harry swallow tightly. "I don't mean to but sometimes weird things happen. I don't mean to," he repeated. He lifted his head, looking at Draco with eyes bright with tears. "Uncle Vernon gets mad and locks me in my cupboard. You don't have a cupboard but you can lock me in the bathroom or something until I'm better." Hermione slapped a hand over her mouth in horror. Harry kept looking at Draco, his voice thick with tears, eyes wide and begging. "I'll try not to be bad Draco. I won't be sick anymore. I'll straighten the bedroom and help cook breakfast. Just please please don't send me away."

Draco, suddenly and irrationally, hated Severus Snape. He pressed Harry's head into his neck, rubbing the back of his neck soothingly. He shook his head at Hermione, warning her now was not the time to pursue this. And he sighed. Deeply. "Harry," he began calmly. "I don't give a shit if you ever make a bed or cook a meal again for your entire life. I will not allow anyone to lock you up anywhere. Ever. I will severely punish anyone who even tries, including your worthless uncle." He tightened his grasp on Harry's neck, pulling back until he could look into Harry's eyes. Something warm tightened and clenched inside him. "You are not useless. You have never been and will never be useless." He cuddled Harry close again, shutting his eyes and mentally cursing Snape. "I will never do anything that will get you taken away from me, and I will never send you away."

Hands reached up and circled Draco's neck. Draco was only slightly disgusted with himself when he turned his head and kissed a little palm. "You promise?" Harry questioned tremulously.

Draco sighed, kissed Harry's forehead and sealed his oath. "I promise."

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"So you expect me to believe that you are only looking out for Harry's best interest?"

Pansy ran her hands through Harry's hair, delighting in the trusting weight of his body nestled in the crook of her left arm. "Believe what you want," she indifferently answered Ron. They had all gathered for their talk, meeting in the library after Hermione sensibly pointed out that the threat of Madame Pince tossing them out would be a sufficient reminder to keep the talk quiet and civil. Harry was ignoring the talking students, intent upon a game of I-Spy he was playing with Vince and Greg. He was currently leaning against Pansy, craning his neck to find unusual objects to hint at. "He's a sweet kid; well mannered and cute." She smiled down at the boy. "And he likes snakes."

Ron frowned. "It's just too convenient," he said stubbornly. "He gets turned into a kid, and suddenly he's all over you guys." He stiffened, leaning forward to glare accusingly at the students. "You just want Harry to trust you! This is all some, some, some I don't know. Some plot to lure Harry to You-Know-Who!"

"Voldemort, Ron," Hermione said firmly; ignoring the Slytherins reactions out of politeness. "If you're going to threaten or accuse, do it properly." She ignored his glare and continued on. "I told you Ron, Harry is perfectly safe with his snakes."

"His snakes!" Ron yelped, lowering his voice with a nervous glance towards the front of the library. "That's the second time you've called them that! They're not his snakes. They're no one's snakes. They're just… just, well, just Slytherins."

"Oh very articulate Weasley," Draco drawled, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded defensively across his chest. "Did it ever cross your mind that if we merely wanted to turn Harry over to the Dark Lord, all it would take would be a letter?" He sneered at the read head, continuing on in a droll voice. "'Dearest Father. Regretfully, Harry Potter experienced a Potions accident and has been turned into a child. He's vulnerable and shy and, oh yes, quite attached to me and my friends. Oh woe is me. Perhaps I'll bring him round the manor for Christmas, shall I? Give the Dementors my best. Your loving son. Draco."

Hermione giggled, trying unsuccessfully to hide it from Ron. "Oh give it up, Ron! They've been nothing but nice to Harry the entire time he's been with them." She paused, thinking. "Granted, it has been only three days, but I think that's a new record for Draco."

Blaise grinned at Hermione, running his hand absently through her hair. "It is, actually."

"Look," Pansy interrupted, holding up a hand imperiously. "This is getting redundant. Allow me to simplify." She turned to Ron. "You're jealous and hurt because Harry chose us over you. Naturally, there has to be an evil ploy on our part to turn him from you. Unfortunately for you, Harry is five and has had a shitty life and can recognize basic manipulation for what it is. Suck it up, he doesn't like you because you're loud and you hurt him that day at breakfast." Ron's mouth dropped open.

Pansy turned to Hermione. "You're torn. On one hand you're fiercely loyal to Harry and would follow him to Riddle Manor if he chose to accept an invitation from the Dark Lord for tea. On the other hand, you want to stick close because you find yourself actually liking us, which conflicts with your image of us as becoming future Death Eaters." She paused, eyeing the two shocked Gryffindors closely. "We don't intend to follow that path, by the way."

Hermione glanced at Draco. The blonde tore himself away from glaring balefully at Pansy to meet her look. He smirked, lazily extending his arms and stroking the smooth skin. "I'm far too pretty to allow for ostentations displays of ownership." He shrugged. "If I was going to tattoo myself, it would be something artful. Something that made nicely brought up people blush."

Ron looked confused, Blaise laughed, Pansy rolled her eyes, but it was Harry who piped up. "Like what, Draco?"

Draco faltered, blushing, under Harry's innocently curious gaze. He recovered quickly, reaching over to rub Harry's neck. "Like a lightning bolt," he teased. Harry grinned at him, impulsively leaning over to hug his snake.

Pansy watched them closely before turning back to Ron. 'Other than that we have no hidden motives." Idly, she examined her cuticles. "Well, except the fact that Draco loves Potter, of course."

The table went utterly silent. Greg looked up, smiling brightly. "Oh, are we talking about that now?" Pansy beamed at him.

Ron looked confused again. "Course he loves Harry. Harry's five and vulnerable, and…" he gestured vaguely, "all that other stuff Malfoy said earlier. Harry needs him."

Pansy shook her head slowly, watching Draco's reactions closely. "No, not Harry," she said. "Potter. Draco loves Potter. Angst ridden, angry, opinioned, messed up, sixteen year old Potter." Hermione gave Pansy a disapproving look. Pansy shrugged. "We've been fighting with him for five years. Old habits die hard."

Hermione arched her eyebrows. "I know how you feel," she said consolingly. "Imagine how I felt when I realized Ha… Potter possibly loved the spoiled, slimy, demoralizing, morally bankrupt blonde." She smiled winningly at Draco. Pansy choked on her laugher, trying not to alert Madame Pince with the noise.

"I do not love Potter."

Blaise ignored Draco. "He's been lusting after him for awhile." He turned to Hermione, taking advantage of the situation to drape his arm over her shoulder. "Did you know it was his idea to seek assistance from Potter to begin with?"

"I was DRUNK! Who's the idiot that agreed with me?"

"He's always talking about him," Vince piped up.

Ron was looking back and forth between Draco and whoever was talking with a look of dawning horror on his face. "Malfoy loves Harry?"

Hermione reached over and patted his hand, ignoring Draco's emphatic head shake. "Yes. He loves Harry, and he loves Potter." She smiled sympathetically. "He's just in denial."

Ron rubbed his temples. "I'm confused."

"I am NOT in denial!"

Ron looked sick. "So Malfoy and his friends want Harry to protect them from You-Know-Who because they don't want to become Death Eaters AND because Malfoy loves Harry…err…Potter?"

"I do not love Potter!"

Hermione smiled at Ron approvingly. "That's right," she said brightly.

Harry turned to Draco. "You don't love me?"

Draco looked into big green eyes. "Course I love you Harry," he said absently. Harry still looked slightly apprehensive. Draco smiled at Harry. Harry smiled back. Draco remembered breakfast on the first day of school.

"Oh my God."

He looked around wildly. Pansy and Blaise were smirking, Hermione looked sympathetic, Ron looked bewildered, and Vince and Greg looked completely ambivalent to the entire conversation. Draco felt nauseous.

"I think I love Potter."

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Muhuhuhuahahahahaha... I'm excited for Chapter 7.

So... thoughts?


	7. Mischief Started

1. YEAH! I am so glad you like my Draco! Isn't he adorably clueless :) But, come on... do you really think he's going to accept his feelings that easily? Just wait till Harry gets older. hehehe.

2. I'm glad you think Ron is clueless and an idiot versus evil. I have finally discovered why people tend to vilify the other house in stories like this. Makes it so much easier! I'm trying hard not to fall in that pattern, so if I slip be sure to yell at me.

3. I had to write half of Chapter 8 before I could end this one, so I will have an update up by Wed.

4. I had a really cracked out idea of how to kill off our dearest Voldemort. Ran it by my friend Jess and she said, "Well, he's not really a big part of this story, so just do it." My question to you all it: would you care if Harry killed him off at age ten?

Aquila Corax - I love you too :) PLEASE don't feel bad. I don't have a Beta and try to be as careful as possible before posting, but I want to fix any errors as soon as possible. Question: I changed it under my Documents posting... but it didn't change in the story. Do I have to delete that chapter and readd it to fix mistakes??

StunningSpellRocks2345 - Oh oh oh!!! Great question!! And the answer is... it's one more question I have to ignore for a few more questions ;)

Mari - Anyone specific?

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"Draco, are you awake?"

Draco didn't move. Of course he was awake. Shadows were still shrouding the room, however, and he had no intention of getting out of bed at whatever time Harry had deemed appropriate for waking up. In the few seconds it took Draco to swallow his groan, two things became glaringly obvious to him: He still desperately hated mornings, and Harry was wiggling by his side. Draco hadn't even felt Harry crawl into his bed last night; a fact he found moderately concerning since he was famed for being a light sleeper. Ah well, it was too early to worry about that. "No," he said simply; not bothering to open his eyes.

"Oh." Draco felt Harry squirm again. The little boy adjusted his hold on his stuffed unicorn, rearranged his legs, pulled up his fleece throw, sighed, and squirmed again while trying to be quiet. He lasted forty five seconds before he broke. "Are you awake now?"

"No." He kept his eyes stubbornly shut. From across the room Draco heard a muffled laugh.

He felt Harry shift again, and knew the boy was staring at him suspiciously. "Are you lying?"

"Maybe," Draco cracked open an eye and glanced at the boy. Harry smiled up at him, delighted his snake was awake. Draco groaned and shut his eye.

Harry giggled, giving up on being quiet to shift onto Draco's back where he bounced up and down. "Draco wake up! It's morning! And it's snowing!" Harry's voice was high pitched with excitement. Draco smiled into his pillow, still refusing to open his eyes. "Draco, please?" Harry begged. "Please, please can we go play in the snow?"

"Potter," he growled.

"It's snowing?" Across the room Greg sat up, looking sleepy but excited. "I love the snow. How'd you know it's snowing?"

"Sasha told me." Harry grinned across the room at his friend before turning back to Draco. "I remembered! I remembered this time! Dobby brought everyone coffee and really yummy things with raspberry jam and oh Draco please wake up and come play!"

Blaise sat up, rumpled and amused. "Amico, bring me some coffee and I'll make sure Draco gets his lazy ass out of bed." Harry beamed, jumping off Draco to rush over to the tray Dobby had placed on Harry's empty bed. Carefully, biting his lip, Harry carried over a cup of coffee to Blaise. He froze, eyes wide, when he sloshed a little of the liquid over the rim of the cup. Blaise looked down into anxious green eyes and grinned. "Once," he said casually, "I was drinking a cup of coffee in bed and fell asleep. I woke up when I poured the coffee all over my chest." He winked at Harry, satisfied when the boy smiled back and resumed walking toward him. "Nothing like hot coffee to wake you right up."

Vince laughed, plopping on Harry's bed and tossing a pastry to Greg before grabbing one for himself. "He squealed Harry. Really loud. Louder than Pansy ever has."

Greg frowned at Vince. "Pansy said she doesn't squeal. That only foolish girls squeal and she's far too dignified for that. She said the noises she makes aren't squeals – they're simply loud exclamations of surprise." Blaise snorted, mumbling something under his breath that confused Harry and made Draco laugh.

"All right, I'm awake," Draco sat up, yawning, before grabbing his wand and summoning a cup of coffee and a pastry. Harry remained standing by Blaise, looking at his favorite snake from across the room with hopeful pleading eyes. "Harry," Draco began after contentedly sipping at his coffee, "I dislike the snow. It is wet, cold, and has no appreciation for expensive fabrics or hand sewn garments." Harry's face fell. Blaise sent Draco a dirty look. Draco sighed, placing his coffee cup on his bedside table for safety. "Therefore," he continued reluctantly, "we need to ensure we place impervious charms on ourselves lest we damage our clothing." Harry whooped, flying across the room to fling himself at Draco. "Only for a little bit before breakfast," Draco said sternly. "Then you'll have to content yourself until class lets out and our homework is finished. Understand?"

Harry hugged the blonde tightly, nodding desperately before pulling back to smile at him. "Thank you Draco! Thank you!" He leaned close, wrapping his little arms around Draco's neck to whisper in his ear. "I'm really glad you're my best friend Draco."

He pulled back, smiling shyly into startled gray eyes. Draco swallowed, reaching up to absently rub the back of Harry's neck. "Me too, Harry."

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"So, therefore, emotions cannot always be trusted. Do you understand that?"

Sliding around as he helped roll snow into a large ball, Harry nodded obediently up at Draco. Vince looked at Greg and rolled his eyes. Greg grinned. Harry, having never played games in the snow before, had wanted to try everything. However, after a ball of snow hit Draco upside the head, Harry had freaked out and passionately declared he did not like snowball fights. Terrified of the tears rolling down Harry's cheeks, Draco had immediately suggested building a snowman. Greg and Vince enthusiastically agreed, Blaise left for the castle to get Pansy, and Draco had spent the last five minutes muttering disgustedly over the inelegance of snow and the fickleness of emotions. He was currently in the process of instructing Harry over the perils of becoming emotionally attached to others.

"What on earth have you done to my baby?"

Harry looked away from his snakes at the sound of Hermione's voice, managing to wave happily, before he noticed the people at her side. He stepped back, cautious, and slid his hands around Draco's legs. Vince looked up at the voice as well; following Hermione's incredulous gaze to where Harry hovered next to his protector. He studied the silent boy. Harry was wearing three pairs of socks, sturdy dragon skin boots, two pairs of pants, a t-shirt, two sweaters, fluffy coat, robe, thick gloves, a Slytherin crested scarf, and had two hats snuggled on his head and over his ears. Vince wasn't sure what little boys were supposed to wear in the snow, but he thought Harry looked rather cute. "We're building a snowman," Vince told Hermione seriously. "And Harry is our baby, not just yours."

She smiled at him. "Yes, I can see that," she said, walking closer. "However, I was referring to the…err… mass of clothing Harry is being devoured by."

"He's not being devoured," Greg said, confused. "Draco says we can't have any accidents today." He puffed up his chest proudly. "We're protecting Harry from the elements."

Hermione nodded, understanding filling her eyes as she reflected on her own effective warning from Professor Snape. "Come here a minute, Har Bear," She smiled coaxingly at the little boy, holding her hand out entreatingly. Harry hesitated, looking up at Draco. Unable to reach Harry's neck, Draco simply patted his insulated little head and smiled reassuringly. "These are some of our friends Harry," Hermione said gently once Harry's hand was clasped in hers. "Ron you already know; and these are two of Ron's brothers, Fred and George." She smiled brightly. "We saw you out the window and wanted to play too. Is that ok?"

Green eyes wary, Harry smiled shyly at the Gryffindor students. He hesitated, staring distrustfully at Fred and George, glancing back at his snakes for affirmation, before nodding slowly. Fred frowned, squatting down to Harry's level. His eyes narrowed slightly at the way Harry tensed and angled his body so he was half hidden behind Hermione, before he forcibly made himself smile. "Lo Harry!" he said conversationally. "Why you looking at me like I'm a Blast Ended Skrewt?"

"A what?" Harry answered nervously.

George flung himself backwards in the snow, arms and legs scissoring back and forth rapidly. "He means, little man, why are you looking at us like we're going to bite you?"

Harry apologized immediately. "I'm sorry." Fred smiled at him encouragingly. Harry tightened his hold on Hermione's hand, relaxing when he felt Draco's hand settle on his head. "You were with that lady who wanted to take me away from my snakes. I don't want to go with you."

Ron winced, dropping down on his knees in the snow. "Oh Harry! Mum wasn't trying to scare you. We would never do anything to hurt you." Draco was rather proud of himself for holding back his derogatory comment.

"Besides," George added, jumping nimbly to his feet and admiring his handiwork. "Mum's mental. We love her to pieces, but all us kids plot ways to avoid her."

"Can't blame ya mate," Fred agreed. "She's a little overbearing, bless her heart."

Ron nodded in agreement before turning back to Harry. "What these two lame brains mean, Harry, is that we would never force you to go where you didn't want to go. And if you feel," he swallowed tightly. "If you feel safer with the Slytherins, then we'll let you stay with the Slytherins."

Harry studied the kids intently. "You won't try to take me away from my snakes?"

George smiled wickedly, wiggling his eyebrows at Draco. "The way I hear tell, we'll be stuck with your snakes long after you're sixteen again."

Draco went pink; glaring at the snickering twins. Harry nodded solemnly. "They're my friends."

Ron made a constricted noise in the back of his throat before wandering over to help Vince and Greg wrestle the snowman into place. Fred watched his brother walk away, a crafty smile lighting up his face. "So Harry," he whispered. "You want to play a harmless joke on Ron?"

The little boy tilted his head, eying the grinning twins closely. "Will I be punished?"

George fairly beamed at the boy. "Ah Harry, you make me so proud! Damn shame you weren't born into my family!"

"Look at you being all cautious and considerate," Fred piped up. Harry smiled uncertainly.

"No worries, little man. Ron can get a bit… hot headed… every now and then," George rolled his eyes. "We'll protect you though."

Fred nodded, leaning closer to whisper to the little boy. "Ron may be an idiot," he said affectionately, "but even he's not stupid enough to cross your snakes. You know they'll protect you."

Draco sent a suspicious look at the twins, before relaxing his face and winking down at Harry. "I shouldn't be hearing this." He adopted a stern tone of voice. "Slytherins know when to plead ignorance of certain situations. Revenge is an art that should be planned and executed with a lot of grace and few witnesses." He hesitated, sending a warning look to the twins before bending down to fuss with Harry's hat and coat. "Pansy and Blaise are coming out now," Draco inclined his head towards the two teens carefully picking their way across the yard. "I'll be right over there. We have to head inside in just a few minutes."

"I'll be good Draco," Harry promised. Draco nodded, sent one last unhappy look towards the twins, patted Harry's head again, and slowly walked away. He only looked back three times.

"Hermione, jewel of my life," George batted his eyes adoringly at the girl. "Why don't you scamper off and let young Harry here get to know us again."

"Like a brother to me he was," Fred contributed morosely. "Breaks my heart to think he doesn't remember the fun we had together."

Hermione snorted, shaking her head in disbelief. "Oh whatever." She turned to Harry, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "Is it ok with you, Har Bear? Would you mind talking with Fred and George?"

Green eyes studied the twins. "It's ok Mione. They promised not to take me away from my snakes. I don't think they'll hurt me."

George waited until she joined the group around the snowman before he turned to Harry again. "All right, little man. Knowing you won't get in trouble, what can we get you to do?"

Harry thought about what Draco would do. He smiled at the twins. "What's in it for me?" The others looked over as the twins' laughter rang out.

Pansy smirked at the scowl on Draco's face. "Little possessive of our charge, are we?"

Draco glared. "You know as well as I do the esteem the Weasley's hold for my family."

Blaise laughed. "Right. Absolutely no provocation to feel the way they do." Draco gave him a half hearted frown, eyes narrowing as he watched the twins stuff something into Harry's pocket.

Lazily looking around at the Gryffindor students interacting with Vince and Greg, Pansy sighed delicately. "It's rather hard fighting down your urge to protect the little boy now that you realize you love the man."

"Umm," Draco agreed absently. His head snapped up.

Pansy laughed. "Oh give it up Draco. You as well as admitted it last night." She patted his arm. "You'll be much happier once you just admit it to yourself."

The arrival of Harry interrupted the conversation. He reached out and gripped Draco's hand, happily pulling him towards the group of students and excitedly commenting he'd always wanted to build a snowman with friends. It was a weary, damp, and happy bundle of students that made their way up to the castle twenty minutes later. The twins separated from the group, offering vague explanations about Hagrid and potions ingredients they needed to collect before returning to their store, and promised to reconnect with Harry later. Vince took pity on Harry's little form struggling through the snow and swung him up onto his shoulders.

"I'm so tall," Harry breathed; clutching Vince's neck tightly.

Greg grinned up at the boy. "You're taller than Hagrid, Harry!"

Blaise winked up at the boy perched on Vince's shoulders as they made their way to the Dining Hall. "You're a Slytherin now Harry. The larger than life perspective is just part of the training all young ones receive."

"Sit up straight and hold your chin up," Pansy instructed mildly. Harry nodded, adjusting his posture immediately and smiling at the students milling about the halls.

"If you drop him, I will have you expelled," Hermione's anxious voice interrupted the children's laughter. Draco frowned in agreement, his hand hovering nervously over Harry's knee.

Harry gave Hermione an incredulous look. "Vince won't drop me, Mione! He's my friend." Hermione shook her head, but quieted as Blaise pulled her close to his side.

Entering the Dining Hall, Harry practiced his posture again; straightening his shoulders and lifting his chin. His dignified entrance was interrupted, however, by the fact that he began waving madly at everyone in the hall; beaming and giggling in delight when varying members of the staff and students waved back. "Time to get down, Har Bear," Hermione announced, holding out her arms to Harry.

The little boy shook his head, grinning as he scrambled up until he was squatting on Vince's shoulders. "Draco!" he shouted in warning, before leaping off Vince and into Draco's arms.

Draco grinned, inordinately pleased Harry leapt to him instead of Hermione. He was still grinning after breakfast when Harry stopped by the Slytherin table for one last hug before walking to class with Professor Snape.

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"You keep rubbing your head. Are you in pain?"

Professor Snape's tone was mild, a sharp contrast to the alert manner with which he was studying the little boy. Harry looked up guiltily from the cauldron he was stirring, opening his eyes and dropping his hand from where it had been absently rubbing his temple. "I'm fine," he said swiftly. He looked away from the teacher, fidgeting with the ingredients lined up neatly beside him.

"Harry," Professor Snape spoke calmly. "If you lie to me, you will be punished." Harry's head shot up, green eyes widening in panic. "I will not hit you, but I will give you a detention. That means you will be in here scrubbing cauldrons instead of outside playing in the snow."

"I'm good at cleaning," Harry answered evasively. "I won't mind helping you."

Black eyes narrowed. "How long has your head been hurting?"

The little boy fidgeted, eyes flickering around the room. "For forever," he admitted quietly. "Except when I first wake up in the morning."

Snape swore, turning abruptly and striding towards the door. "Come with me," he snapped tersely. Harry paled, terrified, but hastened to obey. Snape paused briefly inside his classroom, pointing to the Ravenclaw Prefect in the first row. "You," he snapped, "watch the class. I will return shortly." The student nodded nervously, offering Harry a sympathetic look as he jogged out of the classroom in an attempt to keep up with the professor's stride.

"Am I going to be punished now?" Harry huffed breathlessly.

"No, you are not." The Potions Master sounded mad. "If anyone deserves to be punished it is that ridiculous woman in the infirmary." He slowed his steps, allowing Harry to catch up; they entered the Hospital Wing side by side. Madame Pomphrey looked at the duo curiously. She opened her mouth questioningly, when Snape silkily spoke over her. "Tell me, Madame. As a Healer, do you frequently discover that someone's vision is the same at age sixteen as it would be at age five?"

Her eyes widened is surprise. "In all the confusion, I never…. Harry, come over to this bed here." Harry silently obeyed, trembling as he walked away from Snape and onto the bed. Madame Pomphrey waved her wand over Harry, muttering under her breath before turning sharply away to collect vials from her office. "Mr. Potter, when was the last time you had your glasses prescription altered?"

"My what?" he asked nervously, swiftly drinking down two familiar looking potions. He didn't understand why he needed nutrient potions when she was asking about his eyes, but knew better than to disobey an adult. Besides, one of his snakes was with him. Harry was confident that even angry the professor would not let him drink any potions that would hurt him.

Pomphrey smiled kindly at the little boy. "When is the last time you went to the eye doctor?"

"I haven't been," he answered. "These are Uncle Vernon's old glasses." He froze, third vial halfway to his mouth, when the healer abruptly reached over him and whisked the glasses off his face. "I'm sorry," he said shakily. "Glasses are very expensive. Please. I wasn't complaining."

"Minerva knew…. Filthy Muggles… What I wouldn't give to…" the healer muttered viciously under her breath, grasping Harry's chin firmly in her hands as she pointed her wand at his eyes. "Don't move," she ordered, beginning her scan.

Harry was trembling. This was the first time since he had been in this strange environment that someone had grabbed him this roughly. Was it going to be just like at home? Had he answered wrong? He sat there, frozen, vulnerable in his inability to see properly, shaking in expectant terror of what this lady would do to him. A confusing image flashed in his eyes – he could sense his terror and helplessness and pain. It hurt. Why did it hurt? Who was touching him? Was he in a graveyard… it was so dark and scary… like a scene from Dudley's favorite movie about the guy who escaped from a mental asylum and came back to kill his family on Halloween. Dudley said monsters were real and were going to take him out of his cupboard and kill him. He wasn't in his cupboard… was this lady going to kill him?

Harry whimpered. He couldn't move, she'd told him not to move, but he wanted his snakes. He wanted his snakes right now. The minute the lady took her hand off his face Harry clenched his fist and felt a weird sucking sensation envelop him. He gagged, trying to suck in the air that was swirling past his face. When the motion stopped, Harry felt himself topple over something solid. He landed on the ground, shaking, confused, and breathing rapidly. Had he just died? Something comforting and heavy landed on his shoulder, a soft peal of noise washing over him peacefully. "Fawkes," he breathed out, relieved. "Are you dead too?"

"Harry!" He looked up, making out a blurry figure in bright blue robes with a long beard smiling at him. "Have you come for tea then?" Dumbledore asked the question politely, congenially, as though a student traveling through the anti-apparition wards inside the school was an everyday welcomed experience.

Green eyes blinked dazedly at the headmaster. "I'm not dead?"

Blue eyes twinkled merrily in response. "No, my dear boy, you are not."

"Oh." He wasn't dead. "OK." Harry sighed heavily. "Professor Snape is going to be so mad at me."

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Harry was good at being quiet.

Slowly he slipped out of bed, crept across the room, and collected Sasha before easing the door open. He'd promised his new friends Fred and George he would do this tonight, and just knew his snakes would stop him if they knew he was leaving the bedroom. Harry had thought about having one of them come with him, but after Harry managed his disappearing act from the hospital wing, he had been punished by Professor Snape. Five cauldrons were a lot to clean! During detention he had explained about feeling scared and thinking of a graveyard. His teacher had been very quiet before asking more questions. Upon discovering Harry's adverse reaction to mermaids, he had assigned detentions to all Harry's snakes and Mione and Ron too for withholding potentially viable information. His snakes had not been amused.

He hesitated, casting one last uncertain look over his shoulder, before cautiously slipping out of the common room. He had to go back to Madame Pomphrey on Sunday after lunch. Tomorrow he would be making potions with his snakes and Professor Snape. Ron had blubbered something about some place called Hogsmeade and looked angry. Harry reflected back on this with a frown as he cautiously started climbing the stairs. There were so many stairs! His snakes had the right idea living in the dungeons. At least they got to make potions instead of going to a place Professor Snape called foolish and unnecessary. Professor Snape had told Harry he liked making potions. Tomorrow would be lots of fun!

Harry's heart was pounding over his daring as he followed the path Hermione always took when she brought him to the tower. Sasha hissed comfortingly in his ear. Harry paused before the picture of the lady in the pink dress when she glared at him sleepily. He wanted to run back to his snakes, but bravely fought down the urge. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I don't remember the words Mione tells you."

"It's all right, Harry," the fat lady yawned. "I remember you." She waved half heartedly as she swung open. Harry gulped, staring at the shadowy entrance. He squared his thin shoulders, stuck up his chin, and tremblingly entered.

He remembered where the room he had slept in that first night was. It only took a moment for him to creep inside; he knew by the noise which bed was Ron's. Carefully, he spread the powder over the clothes laid out on top of the truck. Quietly, he placed a couple pieces of chocolate in one of the pockets. Satisfied, he turned and fled. He was brave, but he figured it didn't matter if he ran out when no one was awake to see him. He was halfway down the third flight of stairs when exhaustion hit. He sat down, breathing heavily, to rest before continuing to his room. Harry smiled when Sasha hissed out a greeting, and didn't jump when the arm slid around his shoulder and another figure sat beside him.

"You're far away from home, Harry."

"Yes, sir. I was playing a trick on Ron and forgot how many stairs there were. Why are there so many stairs?"

"You were playing a trick on Ronald Weasley?" Harry nodded, yawning, snuggling close. Professor Snape smiled. "There are so many stairs because this is a castle, Harry. Why are you playing a trick on Mr. Weasley so late at night?"

"Draco says revenge should be done with few witnesses," Harry mumbled.

Snape seemed pleased with this response. He looked at the little boy half asleep in his arms. "Have you quite finished, or is there something I may assist you with?"

"No, I'm all done for tonight." Harry yawned, unable to lift his heavy head from Snape's shoulder. "I just needed a little rest." He pouted. "There are so many stairs!"

Snape chuckled quietly, scooping Harry into his arms and aiming a level look at Sasha. "If your snake bites me I will have it for breakfast," he said calmly. He felt Harry smile into his shoulder, but the boy remained quiet as they walked through the castle and to the Slytherin quarters. Harry only spoke when Snape was laying him into his bed.

"No," he frowned, squirming. "I want to sleep with Draco. It's too big here."

Snape's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, but he turned and placed Harry into Draco's bed. He watched, impassive, as Draco unconsciously shifted over. Watched as Draco's hand rose and absently rubbed Harry's neck; and watched as Harry relaxed instantly, sighing happily, before falling asleep. Snape stood there a minute longer; brow crinkling as he realized his student had not woken once at the intrusion. He smirked, satisfied, and turned to go. He now had even more leverage to use tomorrow.

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I have to be mean to little Harry after the end of Chap. 9. Sorry... I know he's adorable. Next chap will end with a challenge that will prepare you. I'm rather excited, as I've already written Chap 10. Is it perverse to be excited to hurt him? Ah well.


	8. Mischief Managed?

Ok, Harry killing our beloved Dark Lord at ten seems to meet with approval. Just, please, no comments about my muse being a crack monkey when we get to that scene. I prefer the term "emotionally disturbed"

Beautiful Orubus - What can I say? I'm a tease! No, seriously, you have no idea how frequently I alter what I have already written based on the comments I receive. I like to read the feebdack for one chapter before posting another, just to make sure I am keeping true to expectations for the story. If that doesn't sound too freaky.

Mari - I love it too, which is why I ALWAYS try to respond to my reviewers. Yes, I have a great scene with the Gryffindors coming up once Harry is ten. Mione and Harry's snakes are far too protective of the five year old to let him out of sight for too long. With good reason... (insert evil laugh here)

StunningSpellRocks2345, Robinthebird, Sara, Aquila Corax - Yes, yes, I know (cringes). But I am really excited for that scene. After that I promise I will leave sweet little Harry alone. For at least three chapters. hehehe.

But look at how quickly I updated this chapter. You cannot be too mad at me. Please?

Kisses!

Roo

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"I still don't see why I got stuck in detention, too."

Hermione looked over from where she was meticulously cleaning and organizing the supply cupboard to see Ron scowling as he scrubbed the floor. She sighed. Manual labor was not fun at the best of times, but having Ron sulking and muttering over his detention accomplished nothing but making the time drag on further. From across the room Draco snorted, not bothering to glance up from the potion he was carefully brewing. "Shut it Weasley," he commanded. "You're the one who said you wanted to be included."

Ron glared at the blonde. "I didn't mean by being punished!" He miserably gazed down at his pail of soapy water. "We're missing out on Zonko's, and buying loads of sweets. Bet ya Harry would much rather have chocolate than be making stupid potions." He shifted slightly, trying to ignore the way his clothes irritated his skin. "Then, after shopping a bit, we could go to the Three Broomsticks and have a Butterbeer with Madame Ros…" he stopped abruptly, blushing as he began scrubbing vigorously.

Blaise wandered over, gently rubbing circles on Hermione's neck as she carefully wrote down ingredients that still needed to be replenished. "Someone got a bit of a crush, then?" Ron sent Blaise a vicious look, eyes narrowing at Hermione's quiet hum of pleasure.

Hermione sighed, arching gently into the soothing massage. "Oh shut up, the both of you. I managed to go six years without ever once having a detention. I could be in the library, or putting together a study schedule for Harry, or getting Harry some new books and supplies in Hogsmead." She frowned at the cupboard in front of her. "It's not so much the fact that I have a detention;" she blinked rapidly, trying to clear her suddenly watery vision. "How could I forget to tell Professor Snape about my suspicions over the mermaids? How could I hurt Harry like that?"

A gentle kiss on the top of her head made her smile slightly. "No one is perfect, Cucciola Mia," Blaise said warmly. "Not even you, shocking as the thought may be."

The door opening halted the conversation. Blaise moved away from Hermione to help Pansy with the large box she was struggling with, setting it down on Professor Snape's desk. Greg and Vince followed, carrying their boxes easily. Snape entered last, frowning down at a list in his hand, Harry dancing along by his side with a fistful of flowers clutched tightly in his hand. "Hi Mione!" he greeted excitedly, moving to her side and holding up his arms. "We went into the forest and met loads of animals! Then we met this really big man named Hagrid who helped me pick flowers. And," he bounced in her arms, wanting to share his excitement, "he had a dog! A dog, Mione! His name is Fang, and Hagrid says I can play with him whenever I want to!" Harry stopped bouncing, an odd expression flitting across his face, one hand reaching to absently rub his temple. "I like dogs, Mione. Did I used to have one?"

She froze, eyes widening painfully. Snuffles. Was Harry remembering Sirius? Hermione was saved from answering when Snape chose that moment to address Harry. "What did I tell you about attempting to get a straight answer from a student?"

Harry giggled, face brightening into a smile as he squirmed out of Hermione's arms and walked over to his teacher. "It's an exercise in futility," he answered promptly. Draco choked back a laugh.

"How on earth did you collect all these?" Blaise looked stunned as he unloaded the boxes. Blood, hairs, fangs, snake skin, unicorn tears, Accromantula venom, fairy dust, rare and hard to find flowers and herbs not known to flourish in the Forbidden Forest; the boxes were a treasure trove of products.

"Oh," Pansy answered dismissively. "Turns out our Harry can talk to animals. All animals." She winked at the little boy, smiling as he beamed up at her. "Once Professor Snape assured our Harry he was helping his friends by collecting these ingredients, he was only too happy to ask the animals to share with him."

Greg smiled brightly. "Professor Snape assigned fifteen points to Gryffindor!"

Hermione gazed at all the ingredients spread out across the desk. Some of them she had never seen before; only read about in books. "Only fifteen points?" she demanded incredulously.

"Well," Vince began seriously, continuing to unload his boxes. "Professor Snape forgot Harry was a Gryffindor. So the other fifty points were awarded to Slytherin." Ron looked up, scratching his chest as he glared at Pansy. Both she and Professor Snape had politely bland expressions on their faces.

"Pansy forgot too," Greg piped in, seeing the direction of Ron's glare. He smiled earnestly at Hermione. "But I reminded everyone," he said proudly.

Draco and Blaise burst out laughing. Having reached a point where his potion needed to simmer uninterrupted, Draco put his stirring stick down and held out his arms to Harry; delighted when the boy flew across the room and jumped into his arms. "You like detention far too much," he complained cheerfully. Harry grinned, knowing by the way his snake was rubbing the back of his neck that he had done something Draco was pleased with.

Professor Snape observed the easy way the students were interacting. "It will be a shame once little Harry is no longer allowed into the Slytherin dormitories," he voiced smoothly.

Draco sighed, starting to agree, when the wording of that sentence struck home. "Little Harry?" he asked suspiciously, tightening his hold on the little boy he was still holding. Harry said nothing, keeping his face pressed in Draco's neck. He wasn't the slightest bit worried about the conversation. In the forest Professor Snape had told him that sometimes one must word suggestions differently in order to expose the truth, and that he needed to have a serious conversation with Harry's protectors. Harry knew not be worried when it sounded like the Potions Master was threatening his friends. He was only teasing.

"Indeed," Snape answered, sorting and rearranging the growing collection of supplies in front of him. He looked up, observing the reactions his casually spoken words would create. "Once I inform Headmaster Dumbledore of my suspicion that Harry was deliberately drugged before his accident, I am certain he will agree Harry will be better off spending his remaining time in the Hospital Wing or with the Headmaster himself." His eyes narrowed, watching the way Draco, Pansy, and Blaise's faces immediately went blank. Ron and Hermione looked shocked, Greg unconcerned, and Vince proud.

Vince held up his hand. "It was my idea," he said happily.

Hermione took a shocked step backwards. "You drugged Harry?" She looked like she wanted nothing more than to rip the little boy out of Draco's arms and protect him from the perils of the world. Or manipulative Slytherins. Whatever.

"Yep," Vince answered proudly. "We wanted to get Harry to listen to us, so we created a way to get him to stay in the Slytherin common room."

Greg nodded. "Blaise said we couldn't beat him up because Harry was the ruler of a vigilante group and would blink at us." He frowned, confused. "Or something like that." He shrugged.

"So you drugged him!" Ron bellowed. His skin turned a brilliant hue of blue.

Pansy gave Ron an odd look, before bracing herself and meeting angry obsidian eyes. "It was a simple Will Manipulation potion," she told her teacher calmly. "We knew Harry could throw off the Imperius Curse, so we didn't attempt anything of that magnitude. We simply administered a potion that would make him feel ill unless he was within five feet of the Slytherin common room. We wanted him to hear us out, and offer us protection from that ghastly looking man with unattractive red eyes. We weren't attempting to harm Harry in any way."

Professor Snape gave the girl a measured look. "Will Manipulation potions are illegal."

"Are they?" Pansy offered a wide eyed look of innocent confusion. The teacher's lips twitched.

"I thought you loved Harry!" Hermione looked betrayed by the Slytherins. "Why would you drug him?" Ron groaned at the reminder of Malfoy loving Potter, dropping his head in his hands as his skin went from blue to a sickly shade of orange.

"Cara," Blaise spoke soothingly, taking a cautious step towards Hermione; blatantly relieved when she didn't pull out her wand. "You know your Harry and our Draco. After being such right foul git's to each other for over five years, do you think either would have been able to attempt communication if they were not forced into close proximity?" Hermione appeared slightly mollified by this explanation.

"How did you get Harry to ingest this potion?" Snape was frowning, absently rubbing a knuckle against his mouth as he thought deeply.

"We didn't." Draco looked confused over the professor's reaction. "Pan… We," he corrected hastily, "discovered a spell that turned the potion into a quick dissolving lotion. The concoction was rubbed on Harry's arm. He didn't drink anything."

"What's wrong with Harry, Professor?" Hermione looked worried, ignoring Ron as he turned fuscia and stepping closer to Blaise.

"There is an unhealthy amount of Glycerine in Harry's bloodstream," Snape said pensively. "Enough that he should be having reactions other than a new found ability to commune with nature." He observed the little boy peeking looks at Ron. "Chemical reactions," he added, watching Harry smother a giggle as Ron turned a blindingly bright color of yellow.

"You think someone else may have drugged Harry as well," Draco said slowly, watching his teacher carefully. "Don't you?" Snape inclined his head in agreement.

"But who would want to hurt Harry?" Ron asked stupidly, before turning a garish shade of green and disappearing in an explosion of feathers.

The students gazed in shock at the brightly colored parrot squawking where Ron stood seconds before. "Should this concern us?" Pansy questioned eventually.

Harry lost it. He laughed so hard Draco had to quickly tighten his grasp to prevent the little boy from spilling onto the floor. "Ron's a rainbow!" he announced happily. "Fred and George heard about a candy that let's people 'taste the rainbow.' They don't want to taste people, because that would be gross," Harry explained. "So instead they're working on a product that will turn people into rainbows!" He stopped giggling and looked at Ron, a pout forming on his face. "Ron did it wrong, though. He was supposed to go red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple. Because he messed up, he got turned into a bird." The parrot flapped his wings expressively, increasing the volume of his chattering. Harry frowned at the bird. "Oh calm down! Fred and George said it's just a side effect and will go away soon. If you had done it properly to begin with, you wouldn't have become a bird." He pouted again. "I'm telling on you."

"How soon is soon?" Hermione questioned; mentally running through all she knew about caring for exotic birds.

Harry shrugged. "How long is forty eight hours?" He grinned at the laughter his innocent question caused. "I know!" he said brightly, practicing his Slytherin smile on Draco. "We can take him down to Hagrid's. Then we could play with Fang again!" Draco shrugged; not really caring one way or another. Making potions or making fun of Ron was equally appealing to him.

"Five points from Gryffindor for molting on my classroom floor." Snape looked unimpressed. He caught Harry's eye and winked. "Ten points to Gryffindor for exhibiting Slytherin like tendencies." Harry beamed. The professor ignored the confused looks sent in his direction and ordered Greg to take the feisty bird to Hagrid. He then wrote out specific potions for Blaise, Pansy, and Draco to make, and ordered Vince to assist Hermione with the more difficult and heavy ingredients in need of cataloging and organizing. Draco was still grumbling about students being abused by their professors when Snape walked out of the classroom with Harry in tow.

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"Ah, Harry," Professor Dumbledore beamed when they walked into his office. "Back again for tea?" Blue eyes met troubled black eyes as Harry babbled happily with Fawkes. "Harry?" He gestured to the stairs on his left. "If you follow Fawkes upstairs, you might just discover a box of sweets." Harry laughed, dashing up the stairs without hesitation. Dumbledore turned back to his teacher with an inquiring look.

"Harry's been drugged."

Dumbledore's expression didn't change in the slightest. "Is that so," he stated thoughtfully. "I thought you were convinced our young Mr. Malfoy and his friends were the instigators of the issue?"

"Their explanation would not explain the level of chemicals swimming in Mr. Potter's bloodstream."

Blue eyes sharpened. "Is Harry in any immediate danger?"

Snape hesitated. "It's not healthy for anyone to have the levels he does. I fear extended exposure will irrevocably alter his genetic makeup." He sent an unfathomable expression towards the stairs Harry had disappeared up. "It may not be safe to allow him to remain in his present condition… should it continue on through the holiday break."

"He's already changing…" Dumbledore frowned briefly. "Even I cannot boast of the ability to travel through the wards of Hogwarts or speak with Fawkes."

"It's not just Fawkes," Snape interceded. "I kept Harry close to my side all morning – partly to make the students worry where he was during the beginning of their detention, and partly due to the fact we would be collecting ingredients to replace the ones broken during his abysmal display of equilibrium on Monday." He frowned. "Harry was able to communicate with every animal in the forest. It took very little for him to persuade them to do as he requested, and freely offer up hair and blood samples. To keep him occupied, I asked him to search for an **Uncarina grandidieri. **These plants are extremely rare." He paused again, eying the headmaster levelly. "Harry asked an Accromantula if he'd ever heard of one. He returned forty five minutes later with a freshly dug up plant."

The Headmaster stroked his beard thoughtfully, listening to the sound of a crash followed by Harry giggling with Fawkes upstairs. "Poppy gave him more nutrient potions yesterday, correct?"

Snape nodded. "Mr. Potter has gained three more pounds, and at 40 inches and 39 pounds is no longer on the lowest level of the growth spectrum. She wants him at least forty five pounds, however, and plans on giving him more potions tomorrow." He glared suddenly, giving Dumbledore a scathing look. "AFTER she fixes his vision; being as the foolish woman never thought to check his prescription when he was brought in on Monday. Were you aware Harry was wearing his uncle's old glasses?"

Dumbledore sighed, closing his eyes briefly in defeat. "I will speak with Poppy tonight," he said quietly. He smiled, watching Harry rush down the stairs clutching his box of sweets excitedly. The twinkle returned to his eyes when he watched Harry grip the professor's hand in his and jump up and down while begging to share his treats with his snakes. "You are good for him, Severus." With a chuckle he waved the now scowling professor and giggling boy out of his office. Absently he stroked Fawkes' back, lost in thought as he gazed at the fire. How was he going to keep Harry safe now?

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Snape paused outside the door to his class, turning to Harry with a wicked smile. "Harry," he said. "Take a moment to say hello to your friends, then come straight back to my office." Harry looked confused, but nodded; happily anticipating eating his treats. The professor nodded once before sweeping into the classroom; perusing the level of accomplishment without a word. Harry bounded over to Hermione, tugging on her robes in excitement. "Mione, look! I got a whole box of sweets, just for me!" He smiled. "I'll share them with you guys."

"Thanks Harry!" Greg said happily, walking over.

"Where'd you get them?" Vince chimed in.

"From Dumbledore," Harry said simply.

Draco paled, casting an anxious glance towards the closed office door. "Dumbledore?" he asked casually. "What did Dumbledore want?"

Harry shrugged, smiling as he successfully managed to open the container. "He needed to talk to Professor Snape so he sent me out of the room." He looked awed, turning to Hermione. "He didn't punish me or tell me to get lost or anything, Mione. He gave me cookies. Look!"

"I see that," Hermione answered, sending a nervous glance towards the office herself. "Do you know what was said?" Detention was suddenly looking like the lesser of two evils.

"Nope, but Professor Snape wants to talk to me in his office, so I gotta go." He hugged Hermione briefly, selecting two lemon bars and three cookies with pretty designs to share with his teacher before disappearing into the office.

Pansy stared at the door Harry had just closed behind him. She turned back to her friends, thoughts of Christmas making her nauseous. "We are so fucked."

Blaise dropped his head into his hands, Hermione wrung her hands nervously, Pansy paced, Greg and Vince happily munched cookies, and Draco…. Draco wondered with a sense of detachment whether the gnawing ache in his chest was due to the thought of taking the Dark Mark… or the fact that he might have Harry taken away from him. They were all rather subdued as they returned to their assigned tasks.

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"But I don't want to go back to Madame Pomphrey tomorrow."

Professor Snape looked at the sulky face in front of him and sighed. "Harry…" he began.

Green eyes pleading, small hands held out the selection of sweets. "You can have BOTH lemon bars and the rest of my cookies," he offered hopefully. "I don't like her," he said sadly. "She's scary."

"She's not scary," Snape sighed. "And loathe as I am to admit it, she is better trained to help you." Harry's face fell, lower lip wobbling dangerously. The professor pressed two fingers to his temple and prayed for patience. "You just need to be careful with what potions she gives you. Remember what I said, keep your guard up, and you will be just fine."

"Yes, sir," Harry answered resignedly.

"One more thing." Snape waited until damp green eyes met his before continuing. "Tomorrow, you are not to go to Hogsmead with the other children. It is not safe for you to be off the ground of Hogwarts in your present condition. You may either stay with me, Headmaster Dumbledore, or any of your friends that elect to remain behind with you. Is that understood?"

Harry wanted his snakes. He was feeling sad and angry and scared that he had to go back to the Hospital Wing tomorrow. He didn't care about Hogsmead; Snape had told him it was foolish anyway. He just wanted to go hide in his room. Maybe Draco would rub his neck for him. "Yes, sir," he answered thickly, hoping they were done here.

Snape nodded, standing and holding out his hand to the little boy. Harry took it obediently, following with his head bowed. The professor stopped just inside the classroom, immensely satisfied by the level of distraction amongst his students. Lesson learned. He released Harry's hand, watching the little boy head straight to Draco and bury his face in the older boys' neck. Black eyes deliberately scanned the classroom before he turned and walked to his desk. "Three strikes you're out is not simply a Muggle term. Must I clarify?"

"No sir," Hermione said; sounding on the verge of tears. The Slytherins silently shook their heads.

He had to bite his lip to stop the smirk from spreading across his face from their downtrodden expressions. "Any other information you feel like withholding from me? Any more urges to endanger the life of a child?" A chorus of subdues no's followed. "Good. Get out."

Walking back to the Slytherin common room, Greg awkwardly attempted to break the heavy silence. "Tomorrow, in Hogsmead, you'll really like Honeydukes, Harry. They have loads of candies and sweets."

Harry thought about his appointment with the healer tomorrow. The appointment Professor Snape had forbidden him to miss. His face fell. "I can't go to Hogsmead tomorrow," he said quietly. "It's not safe."

The others saw the expression on the little boys face and immediately assumed he had been told that if he went to the village tomorrow he would be taken away from his snakes. Draco's arms tightened protectively. Hermione smiled weakly at Harry. "That's ok, Har Bear. I don't want to go to Hogsmead anyway. We can get your glasses in the morning and then play all afternoon." She leaned close, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "I bet if you suck up to Draco he'll bring you back lots of candy tomorrow."

Harry lifted his head and smiled hopefully at his favorite snake. Draco leaned forward, not even thinking about it, and kissed his forehead. "Loads of chocolates," he confirmed. Harry smiled.

"Me too," Vince said loyally.

"We'll all bring you a surprise, Harry," Pansy added brightly, relieved when Harry's green eyes lit up with happiness.

"For now, though," Blaise spoke up with a grin, "why don't we get changed and spend the rest of the afternoon building igloos and snowmen and burying prissy blondes in the snow?"

Draco glared at Blaise. "Ok!" Harry said enthusiastically, bouncing happily in Draco's arms. Sparkling green eyes locked onto stormy grey. "What's a prissy blonde, Draco?"

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"I don't think the physical abuse is that extensive, but the neglect…" Poppy trailed off, shaking her head sadly. "Albus, he doesn't like to be touched. The reason he was so upset yesterday was because I had to hold onto him to complete the diagnostic scan!" The healer made an impatient noise of frustration. "There is very little scarring or discoloration in his eyes. He may not even need glasses! Harry probably went through a typical stage of childhood awkwardness and began bumping into things. Rather than take him to the doctor, they gave him an old pair of glasses!"

"Umm," Dumbledore murmured, gazing unseeingly into space.

"I don't know when the last time he had he eyes checked was," Madame Pomphrey continued. "Did he go before he came to Hogwarts? According to his chart, it doesn't appear anyone has ever asked him if he ever went. It was all assumed something as basic as vision health would be seen to." She hesitated, troubled. "But if he went years wearing the wrong glasses, then he trained his eyes to be deficient! If we can correct the issue now, he may not need glasses when he is restored to his proper age."

"Albus," Minerva McGonagall spoke up hesitantly. "It just seems a bit too much of a coincidence. Students getting marked over Christmas… Harry being turned into a child. I fear there are dark activities at play. We need Harry to be returned to his original stature as swiftly as possible. As his head of house I demand it in order to keep my student safe. As someone who has watched that sweet boy struggle his entire life…" she shook her head, wiping a vestige of moisture from the corner of her eye. "I implore you; are there no other options?"

"There's the Purifying Draught!" Madame Pomphrey exclaimed.

Dumbledore sighed. "I fear that may not be safe, Poppy," he said gently, pinching the bridge of his nose wearily. "Severus has expressed a concern over the amount of chemicals in Harry's little body. To add more may cause grave injury."

Poppy shook her head. "Albus, no. The purifying draught has a basic amount of Potassium Permanganate in it to act as a disinfectant. It is an oxidizer! It will help clear his system of unnecessary or unwelcome additives! It is the best way to help him!"

The Headmaster switched his attention to the delicate gray basin blowing wisps of smoke into the air. Harry was on Hogwarts grounds; he was safe. One tendril twirled itself into a smokey spiral. Dumbledore smiled at the sight – whatever he was doing, Harry was happy right now. He sighed heavily, thinking of the many times the smoke formation changed. All of last year, when he had distanced himself from Harry hoping to keep him protected and unexploited from dark activity, the nights spent monitoring the charmed basin filled with worry and unease. The way the basin had poured out thick black smoke in the days following the loss of his Godfather. He had failed Harry in so many ways.

Standing, he paced to the window, blue eyes zeroing in on the children playing in the yard. He watched, smiling, as Draco picked up Harry and held him in front of him like a human shield as Blaise approached with a wicked grin. Watched Gryffindor students approach the kids and tentatively ask to join in. It was funny, he mused, observing body language. The students all so hesitant around each other, struggling with opinions and perspectives already formed; the cautious interaction as they struggled to build new bridges. The way they tried. All to please Harry. Dumbledore sighed, watching the tentative truce unfold below as Harry's deep belly laughs filled the night air. He wished Harry had more time. More time to be carefree, to be silly, and to feel safe and surrounded by people he loved.

"A basic oxidizer?" he asked finally.

Madame Pomphrey breathed a deep sigh of relief. "Yes, Albus," she said gratefully. "It will help him; help control the surplus of chemicals in his system."

He turned at looked at his Deputy Headmistress. She nodded encouragingly. "We must do all we can to help him."

"I don't feel anyone has ever done all they could to help Harry." He sighed again, feeling disappointed in himself and the world at large. He watched Harry jump from the top of an igloo into Hermione's waiting arms; observed the bright smile on the little boys face as she covered his face in kisses; saw the trusting way he circled his arms around her neck. It was sad, he reflected, that teenagers… children themselves… were often more capable of helping those in need than adults gave them credit for. He nodded, having come to a decision. "Tomorrow," he said gravely. "Give him the nutrients he needs, wait to make sure his body absorbs them, and then give him the potion."

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After playing in the snow all afternoon, taking a break to eat, and then playing until the sun sank below the sprawling hills, Harry fell asleep in Hermione's arms en route to the dungeons. He woke up briefly as she gave him a quick bath and helped him into pajamas. He curled up in front of the fire with Greg, dozing off and on while sipping from a goblet of hot chocolate and watching his snakes play Exploding Snap. He felt full and safe and tired. He smiled softly, thinking about how this had been the bestest most wonderful afternoon of his entire life.

He woke up again as Hermione was pulling the covers over his head. He caught her hand, pulling her back down and toying with her curls. "Can I tell you a secret, Mione?"

"Course you can, Har Bear."

"I love you," he said sleepily, absorbing the thrill of having said the words for the first time in his life.

Hermione looked like she wanted to cry as she leaned over and kissed his forehead. "I love you too, baby." Harry smiled, drifting off to sleep with happy dreams.

Draco didn't even flinch when Harry climbed into bed with him later on that night. He lay there, rubbing the back of Harry's neck, thinking about his life. Would he be able to convince the sixteen year old Harry of his intent to avoid Voldemort as easily as he convinced others? For that matter… would Harry believe Draco's feeling for him were real and not some pathetic attempt to play on Harry's own emotions. If, that is, Hermione was right in her speculation that Harry loved him as well. Warmth spread through Draco as he smiled at the sleeping boy cuddled so trustingly against his side. Today, thinking Snape was going to follow through with his threat to take Harry away, had shaken him more than he cared to admit. He needed to do everything in his power to keep Harry safe.

"Constant vigilance," he whispered into Harry's hair. Draco smiled, drifting off to sleep with happy dreams.

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Ooohhh...damn you Snape! Why didn't you tell Dumbledore the potion you were concerned with the most was Glycerine? Challenge #3 - What happens when Glycerine meets an oxidixer?

Hmm... how long should I make you guys wait for the next update?


	9. The Consequences Of Solutions

1. WOW! So many people got my challenge that I don't know where to start! So, just pick a bunch of accolades and color me proud :) Although... phrases like "things go splodey" - "bye bye Har Bear" -and "sounds like a preview to a fight match" - had me rolling with laughter. Man I love you guys :)

2. Glad you are all still liking my slightly twisted sense of humor. Just remember, this is fan FICTION - so if I have tweaked the laws of scientific probability to suit my purpose... please don't sue.

BeautifulOrubus - You sure you haven't stolen my outline? Yep, he will be introduced in the next chap or so.

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The snowy white owl flew gracefully through the doors of the Dining Hall and landed gently before Harry; offering a welcoming hoot before sticking out its leg. The little boy dropped his fork, forgetting about his breakfast momentarily as he stared between the owl before him and the parrot perched on his shoulder in bewilderment. He turned to the teacher sitting at his side. "I have an owl?"

"Correct," Professor Snape answered, reaching across the table to remove the letter tied to Hedwig's leg. "Her name is Hedwig." Harry looked awed by this information, tentatively reaching out his hand to touch the soft feathers on her head. Snape tapped the parchment with his wand, checking for curses, before unfurling the letter and swiftly reading the contents. He spoke absently. "Her name literally means 'battle' and 'fight.' You have a very loyal companion with her." A rolling of eyes was the only outward expression of the letter's contents.

"Hi Hedwig," Harry greeted softly. He giggled, enthralled, when the owl gave an indignant hoot towards the parrot on his shoulder before bending forward and stealing bacon off of his plate. Harry gave his teacher an anxious look, clearly uncertain whether or not he would get in trouble for the commotion.

"She's merely announcing her claim over you to the ridiculous bird on your shoulder." He smirked. "Perhaps you should allow your owl to battle with the parrot for a claim to dominancy."

"Severus!" Professor McGonagall snapped, clearly unimpressed as the parrot in question gave off a loud serious of anxious sounding squawks.

Eyebrows lifted disdainfully. "Merely a suggestion, I assure you." He winked at the little boy, satisfied when the nervous expression vanished from bright green eyes and he smiled back. Snape glared at the Scarlet Macaw clinging to Harry's shoulder. "Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley, for failing to conduct yourself with decorum during breakfast." The parrot grumbled quietly, snapping his wings mutinously. Harry giggled again - Snape narrowed his eyes. "A further five points for not knowing when to keep your mouth shut." The Scarlet Macaw's head drooped. Satisfied, Snape turned away.

"Who was Mr. Potter's letter from?" Professor McGonagall questioned.

"A blight on the face of humanity."

Filius Flitwick grinned, well accustomed to the Potions Master's sense of… humor. "How is Remus?" he enthused.

"Who's Remus?" Harry questioned. Hedwig gave Ron a dirty look. The parrot nervously jumped from Harry's shoulder to the back of the Headmaster's chair. Harry didn't notice. He looked at Snape inquiringly, continuing to pet his now cooing owl

"Alive," Snape answered Flitwick. He turned to Harry. "Your babysitter."

Harry's shoulders drooped. "Like Mrs. Figg?" He made a face. "Does he like cats, too?" he asked glumly.

Professor Snape didn't even try to prevent the smirk from crossing his face. "Not likely," he deadpanned. He turned to the Headmaster, answering the unspoken question as to why an Order member would be mailing missives that could be easily intercepted. "Apparently, the arrogant whelp agreed to write a placating letter of sorts; indicating he had successfully managed not to get himself killed during the first week of school." He shrugged, unconcernedly cutting Harry's pancakes into small bites. "The mutt was concerned."

"Mutt?" Harry perked up. "Does he have a dog?"

Snape snorted. "I'm sure he did," he muttered under his breath. He ignored Harry's question, giving the boy a pointed look until he obediently picked up his fork and resumed eating. Turning to the Gryffindor table, he jerked his head slightly. Not a moment later Hermione arrived; picking up Harry and sliding into his seat before resettling the little boy on her lap. He tossed her the note. "Respond to this letter and I will assign Gryffindor two points." Hermione accepted the letter, puzzled, but smiled once she recognized the signature.

"Yes, sir."

A flare of pain, unexpected, caused the professor's muscles to twitch. He stood abruptly, giving Dumbledore a meaningful look, before turning to Harry. "I will be away from the castle for the morning." He winced as the burning sensation heightened. "Remember to stay in the castle today." Harry nodded, looking confused. Snape hesitated, gently placing a hand over messy hair before turning and striding away.

"Where's he going, Mione?"

She sighed. "Someplace we do not want to follow." Hermione smiled at the little boy in her arms, kissing his forehead lightly. "Finish your breakfast, Har Bear. Your snakes want to play this morning before they gather your surprises from Hogsmead."

Harry frowned, hopping down from her lap, looking for his snakes amongst the throng of students. "I thought I had to see Madame Pomphrey?"

"You do," Hermione confirmed absently, mentally constructing the best way to explain to Remus Lupin that Harry was temporarily indisposed at the moment. "But the potions upset your tummy, so we decided last night that you should go during your nap time to make it easier."

Harry pouted, holding up his arms and cuddling close to Draco as the blonde picked him up. "I don't need a nap," he complained.

"Regardless," Draco said smoothly, eyes on the doors Professor Snape had so recently departed from, "you will end up taking one at some point today." He reached up and rubbed the unhappy little boys neck. "As a Slytherin," he continued, "it is your job to recognize situations beyond your control. If you cannot control the situation, control the circumstances."

Blaise smiled into Harry's confused face. "In other words – if you are going to end up falling asleep, be the one that decides when and where." He shrugged, laughing. "Course, by our actions, we're taking that control away from you, but we're not the enemy."

"Besides Harry," Greg piped up happily, leading the way to the Slytherin common room. "We're going to teach you Wizards Chess!"

"What's that?"

Pansy snorted. "A shameless excuse to be violent and loud, under the guise of playing a game that challenges your mind."

"It's really fun." Vince smiled happily, rubbing his hands together in excitement.

Surprisingly, it was. Although not keen over the notion of anyone getting hurt, once Harry associated the game with the story Hermione had told him before bed last week, he was enthralled. He sat safely on Draco's lap, laughing and clapping and making little boy sound effects and exaggerated groans as the players knocked each other out. The chess pieces lapped up the attention, cheering loudly and dancing in place as they annihilated the opposing pieces. By the time Draco, Blaise, and Vince had each won a game, Harry had graduated to theatrically acting out the deaths of the pieces and collapsing on the floor with each blow. Pansy and Greg laughed at his antics while Hermione patiently smiled and bit her lip as repeated high pitched cries of - "Oh wow… Mione, did you see that! I mean, did you see that!...Get him Draco! Knock him down! Woo hoo… oh man, watch me, Mione; he was like 'woah' and 'urg' and crashed down and twitched!" – filled the air. Lunch was a welcomed distraction.

True to prediction, after lunch Harry's little eyes were drooping and he made no protest when Hermione scooped him up. He sleepily bid goodbye to his snakes, promised Draco he would be good, and tightened his grip on Hermione's hair as they entered the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomphrey got the duo situated on a bed, and carefully administered another diagnostic scan on his eyes and another nutrients potion. Harry fell asleep almost immediately afterwards, Hermione sitting vigil by his bed while she penned out a cautious reply to Professor Lupin. She had just finished when a brightly colored bird flew in and sat sadly on the edge of Harry's bed.

Hermione sighed. "Yes, yes I know it is a tad inconvenient being turned into a parrot. Still, that is no reason for you to mope about." The bird offered a string of musical notes. She rolled her eyes. "I can't understand you like Harry does," she began, "but if you would like to make yourself useful then take this letter to the Owlrey and ask Hedwig to send it along to Professor Lupin." Ron squawked, turning his back to the girl. Hermione sighed, impatiently checking her watch. Harry had been asleep for twenty minutes. If he stuck to routine, that meant she had another forty-six minutes before he woke up. Plenty of time to get to the Owlrey and back. "Fine," she huffed. "Watch Harry for a minute; if he wakes up then tell him I'll be right back. I'm just going to go straight to the Owlrey and mail this to Moony and come right back." Ron nodded, turning back to face Harry. Hermione leaned over, kissing Harry gently on his forehead, before straightening and casting one last anxious glance at the office where the healer was writing reports. She shrugged; after six years she'd had no reason not to trust the healer. "Watch him," she ordered Ron once more, before turning and hurrying away.

Not even ten minutes later, Harry twitched. Ron cocked his head and watched the boy closely. Harry moaned lightly in his sleep, tossing over until he was lying on his back. One little hand moved to rub the empty sheets beside him, searching for something or someone, his other hand pressing lightly against his stomach. Green eyes fluttered open, widening in alarm at not seeing Hermione or his snakes before noticing the bird perched on the edge of the bed. "Hi Ron," he mumbled sleepily, blearily wiping his eyes. "Where's my Mione?" The Scarlet Macaw trilled a response. Harry nodded, accepting the fact that his Mione would be back in a few minutes. He sat up and began absently petting the bird while he waited.

Madame Pomphrey came out of her office, smiling brightly at the little boy. "Awake already, Harry? Good for you!" She shooed the bird further away, coming to sit on the end of the bed. "Now, I just need to give you one last diagnostic scan to determine whether or not you need any more potions."

"Why?" Harry asked nervously, inching towards the edge of the bed.

"Well dear," she began kindly, "when you first came to us you were only 38 inches tall and 30 pounds. Far too skinny for your age!"

"I'm little," Harry said warily, inching just a little further away. "I don't need as much food as Dudley. He's a growing boy."

The healer looked sad. "Harry," she said gently, "you're a growing boy too." She shook her head, trying to displace her sudden melancholy as she pinned another smile on her face. "Now, we've gotten you up to 40 inches and after this morning 40 pounds. A tremendous achievement," she praised. "We have needed to keep you here so long each time to make sure your body doesn't reject the treatments."

Harry forgot to be scared for a minute, reaching out to pet Ron as the bird settled on his knee. "But if the potions help me, why would my body not like them?"

"It's not that your body wouldn't like them," Madame Pomphrey explained carefully. "It's just that two inches and ten pounds in seven days could potentially put strain on your innerds." She poked Harry playfully in his stomach, fighting the urge to cry as he involuntarily flinched at her movement. She knew she needed to be in control of her emotions before completing scans or administering potions of any sort. "Whoops!" she exclaimed. "I forgot my wand in the office." She reached over and patted his knee, fighting to keep from breaking down in tears on the spot when Harry inched closer to the other edge of the bed. "I'll be right back," she choked out.

Harry watched her go. He didn't want the lady to touch him. She wasn't like his snakes or his Mione. She was rough the other day when she touched his face; rough like Dudley or Uncle Vernon sometimes. He turned to Ron, big green eyes brimming with tears. "I want my snakes," he whimpered.

Ron looked between the closed office door and the little boy trembling on the bed. He butted his head against Harry's hand, trilling reassuringly. He straightened his head proudly. He had promised Harry he wouldn't do anything to hurt him. If Harry wanted his snakes, then Ron would get him his snakes. He offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile (if it were possible for birds to smile) and flew out the door.

He was clumsy in the air; lacking the natural grace and balance that most birds appeared instinctively blessed with. Swallowing his apprehension, ignoring the fluttering of his heart, he flew down the hall; intent upon his task. He located Hermione first, waylaid on her return journey by Professor Sprout. Ron flew close, landing on her shoulder and urgently tugging her hair. "Ron, stop," she said irritably, continuing her discussion. Ron pecked her hand; hard; fluttering a few feet towards the front door and then back to her side. Hermione scowled at him, checking her watch. "Harry won't be awake for another twenty minutes. I will be right there," she said firmly.

The Scarlet Macaw tried once more. Flying in close and desperately smacking the girl in the head with his wing. Harry was scared… he needed to do something. Ron glanced back one more. Hermione had taken a few steps towards the front doors – still deep in conversation with the Herbology professor. Without a second thought Ron turned and flew as fast as he could towards Hogsmead. He needed to find Harry's snakes.

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"This color would be gorgeous on Harry!"

Draco looked over to where Pansy was critically examining robes. He had to admit, the black and emerald robe she was holding would look incredibly with Harry's eyes. He wondered absently if he could talk Potter into wearing green more often once he returned to sixteen. He shifted slightly, blushing, at the thought of a teenaged Potter wearing a Slytherin uniform. "Hmm, yes," Blaise's amused voice whispered in his ear. "I too frequently find myself blushing over articles of clothing." Draco glared, disgusted with himself to find the pink in his cheeks intensifying.

The teens were moving about the town quickly, not comfortable with the thought of being too far away from Harry. They knew Harry was uncomfortable about going to see the Healer this morning, and thought he was sad over missing the trip off the school grounds. Guilt was a strong motivator for inciting purchases. They already had more quills, multi-colored ink jars, bags of books and activities, and four full bags of candies and sweets from Honeydukes. Pansy had wanted to swing by the clothing store for a few individual purchases for Harry to call his own. Five minutes later, Draco was shaking his head as they stepped into the fractured sunlight. Harry practically had his own wardrobe now.

Vince checked the time. "It's been thirty-five minutes, Draco. Did you still want to get back to the castle?"

Draco nodded, referencing his own watch. "Yes," he replied, quickening his step slightly. "I want to be there when Harry wakes up. That way it's not so obvious he was alone. I don't want him to get scared." He frowned, thinking. "The potions make his stomach hurt. Did I tell Hermione he likes to have his neck rubbed?"

Pansy rolled her eyes, slipping her hand through Draco's arm. "Calm down, darling. Harry will be fine with Hermione. She takes care of him just as often as you do." She smiled kindly at her friend. "What are you going to do when Harry turns sixteen and doesn't need you to take care of him anymore."

"I'll still be there for him." Draco said defensively. "Even if he won't talk to me." Draco rubbed a hand over his chest, slightly surprised at how much the thought of a grown up Potter disliking him hurt. He frowned. "Talking about nonsensical items and prancing about is not always the definition of a friend."

Blaise slung his arm around Draco's shoulders sympathetically. "I worry about it too," he confided. Draco gave him an enquiring look. "Whether Harry and Hermione will stick around after they have the opportunity to go reclaim their normal life."

Draco looked down, watching his feet squish in the slushy street. "What if he doesn't give me a chance?" he asked softly. He looked up, gray eyes stormy as they latched onto Pansy. "It's not just about surviving Christmas anymore; is it?"

She squeezed his arm lightly. "Honey, I don't think that's all it ever really was about."

"Harry won't leave us," Greg said confidently. "He's our friend now. He said so."

"Yeah," Vince agreed. "He'll always be our friend now."

"Yes he will." The Slytherins turned, startled, to the trio of Gryffindors walking slightly behind and to the left of them. Neville Longbottom slapped a hand over his mouth, looking horrified that he had initiated contact with his primary tormentors.

Dean Thomas took a deep breath, managing to meet Draco's eye… even if his voice shook slightly. "Harry's a good guy. If he says you're his friend, then no matter how much you mess up he'll still like you." Vince and Greg looked pleased, slapping Draco on the back enthusiastically.

"No offense," Draco said smoothly, "but somehow fighting over Chocolate Frog cards appears to pale in comparison to… I don't know… openly provoking someone over their lack of family."

Seamus Finnegan took a deep breath. "Last year I basically called him a liar and a murderer." He flushed, looking away from the startled and incredulous looks from the Slytherins. He fidgeted, shifting his bags uncomfortably from hand to hand. "I made it hell for him to even stay in his own dorm room. Then with all the nightmares and stuff with You-Know-Who…" he trailed off briefly before squaring his shoulders and raising his chin. "Harry forgave me," he declared boldly. "If he can forgive me, he can forgive you."

Pansy shook her head at the other students. "You realize that by telling us all this you are shattering our preconceived perceptions of Gryffindors, right?"

Draco smiled slightly, ignoring the tentative conversation forming over Quidditch and Football as hope began blooming in his heart. Would Harry give him a chance? His friends didn't seem too alarmed at the prospect of remaining friends with the Slytherins – Well, except for Neville, of course. But Draco often speculated the boy was frightened of his own shadow. Could they already know Harry liked him; liked him like Hermione thought he did? His musings ended when Ron dropped onto his shoulder and viciously pulled his hair. "Weasley!" he shouted angrily.

Neville cracked up. "You have a parrot named after Ron?" The boy giggled. "Is it really talkative or something?" Vince laughed at that comment; startling Neville and making him jump lightly.

Ron flew off Draco's shoulder, squawking fiercely, before flying back to the blonde. Dean Thomas snorted with laughter. "Good Lord. Is this some kind of warped 'Timmy's in the well' scenario?"

Blaise blinked. "Who's Timmy and why on earth would he be in a well?"

Dean laughed outright at that. "There's a Muggle program called Lassie. It's about a dog," he tilted his head, grinning, "Well, I guess a Weasley will do." He shook his head. "Anyway, this dog, Lassie, alerts the family when Timmy, the little boy in his care, gets hurt." Dean frowned. "Or something along those lines." He shrugged. "It's really cheesy. Someone always gets hurt and Lassie always saves the day." He snorted, rolling his eyes in remembrance of his mother's favorite show.

Draco froze. He looked at the anxious parrot. "Harry?" he whispered, feeling sick when the Scarlet Macaw started trilling. Without thought he shoved the packages he was carrying into Vince's arms and took off running. He could hear pounding feet following him closely, but didn't dare break stride or look back. He knew he should have stayed at the castle today! What was wrong with his Harry?

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"But Professor Snape said no," he whispered.

Harry was sitting carefully on the edge of his bed, trembling, trying to fight the urge to run away. Madame Pomphrey had finished checking his eyes, and had cast a diagnostic spell to check the level of absorption for the nutrient spells. After pronouncing herself satisfied with the results of the tests, she had produced a familiar orange looking vial. "Harry," she sighed. "I assure you that I have taken very good care of you for the last five years. This potion will help you." Mutely, he shook his head no again.

"Harry, you're awake!" Hermione's bright voice carried as she entered the Hospital Wing. In a flash Harry was off the bed and clinging. She patted his back, kissing his forehead comfortingly as she felt his heartbeat thudding painfully fast under her palm. "Baby, I'm sorry. I thought I would get back before you woke up."

"My tummy hurts," he whimpered, burrowing his face into her neck.

"We're almost done, dear," Madame Pomphrey spoke soothingly; not wanting to cause the boy any additional discomfort. She gestured for Hermione to bring Harry back to the bed. "Miss Granger, would you be so kind as to grab me the chart on my desk?"

"But Mione…" Harry began anxiously.

"It's ok, Har Bear," she smiled reassuringly at the little boy, reaching out to rub his back. Hermione frowned, genuinely puzzled as she turned back to the healer. "What else do you have to do? Just document your notes?"

The healer nodded. "That and give Harry a Purifying Draught. Professor Snape is concerned about the level of chemicals in little Harry's bloodstream. The draught contains a basic oxidizer that will help clean out his little body."

Hermione nodded, satisfied with that explanation. It was just yesterday Professor Snape had been expressing concern over the chemical level in Harry's body. "Listen to Madame Pomphrey," she said; patting his back one last time. "I'll be back in just a sec."

Harry watched Hermione walk towards the office, a feeling of helplessness mixing with the fear already strong inside him. "But Professor Snape said no," he choked out. His green eyes were swimming, two tears sliding unchecked down his face.

Madame Pomphrey sighed. "Harry I don't want to hurt you," she said. "Just take this potion and you can be done." Harry closed his mouth tightly, shaking his head. She had had enough. "Harry," she said sternly, drawing up to her full height and frowning down at the boy. Harry froze; green eyes going impossibly large. "I have had just about enough of your attitude! You will take this potion right now and that will be the end of it!" She held the potion bottle out to him. Harry, trembling and terrified, didn't even think of disobeying. He didn't know how this lady would punish him for refusing again, but he didn't think it would at all be like detention with Professor Snape.

Hermione was humming as she reached for the clipboard on the desk of the office. She heard Madame Pomphrey's voice floating through the door, and scowled over the woman's audacity. How dare she yell at her baby! "One last potion, Har Bear," she mumbled, relieved to able to take him away from the Hospital Wing soon. Maybe she could teach Harry how to break into the kitchens and surprise him with ice-cream. Hermione smiled at the though of Harry breaking school rules at any age. She froze suddenly, one hand outstretched, as the potion the healer was administering to Harry floated into her head. Oxidizers were good… they helped with chemicals… Professor Snape was worried over the level of Glycerine in Harry's system. Glycerine. Harry had Glycerine in his system. Hermione gasped, tripping over the edge of the desk and knocking over a stack of papers as she whirled around. Reactive hazards. "HARRY NO!" she screamed, flinging open the door.

The healer jumped, startled, at Hermione's shriek. Harry had the vial at his lips, tears on his face, half the bottle already drunk. Hermione raced across the room, knocking the vial from his grasp, ignoring the sounds of shattering glass and Madame Pomphrey yelling. "Harry," she said frantically, hands pressing against his suddenly warm flesh. "Baby, did you drink that?" Her voice rose hysterically when Harry let out a groan of pain. "Har Bear?"

"Mione, I feel funny," he whimpered, reaching for her.

The blast of heat made her scream. Hermione heard an echoing shriek as her body was lifted off the ground and shoved back by a solid blast of white smoke. She connected forcibly with the stone wall of the building, felt something shatter and twist in her leg. Through the haze of pain and white smoke she dimly saw purple flames concentrated together from the direction she had been thrown from. She heard a pained scream echo in her head. "Harry," she pleaded, reaching out. She felt her body slide to the floor, felt new pains blossom in her body, and gave in to the darkness dancing in the corner of her eye.

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Draco hit the gates of Hogwarts at the exact same time as Severus Snape. The teen paused at the sight of the man, gasping for breath. He was vaguely surprised to see Neville Longbottom at his side as well as Blaise. Huh, he thought vaguely. Who knew the boy could run that fast? Draco shook his head. Harry. He needed to find out about his Harry. "Professor, is it true?" he gasped out.

Snape stared at the boy in horror. "How on earth could you possibly know… When did you find out?"

Terror slammed into the blonde. "Just a few minutes ago," Draco panted, having lost track of the time. "How did it happen?"

"Draco," the professor put his hand on his arm comfortingly. "I promise to do everything in my power to keep you safe. Dumbledore will…"

"Keep me safe?" he interrupted, looking away from the man in front of him and towards Hogwarts in the distance. "Safe from what?"

His teacher frowned, confused. "From your father."

Draco froze, refocusing his attention. "My father?" he repeated blankly.

"Yes," Snape said slowly, casting a suspicious look at the school himself. "He is no longer in Azkaban."

His head was spinning. His father… Christmas… Harry… Harry. Draco shook his head. "I can't care about him right now. Something's wrong with Harry!"

"What?" Snape questioned sharply.

Draco barely heard him. He'd already resumed running back to the castle, caring even less now than before who precisely was running beside him. Hogwarts was a madhouse. Kids were spilling out the doors and onto the lawns, coughing harshly as thick white smoke poured out the open doors. For once Draco was glad to have the reputation as a vindictive bastard, as even frightened the students instinctively parted and let him pass. Teachers and scared and confused Prefects were flooding the halls, attempting to control the mob of students being forced outside. He felt only slightly guilty for kicking Mrs. Norris out of his way when the cat tried to bar him entrance to the third floor corridor. Draco froze when he reached the Hospital Wing.

Dumbledore and McGonagall were erecting containment barriers around a cheerfully burning purple flame. Madame Pomphrey was barely conscious, badly burned, and trying to speak cohesively to an Auror with bubblegum pink hair busy patching her up. A tall bald Auror was levitating an unconscious Hermione to another bed, while Professor Flitwick carefully worked on mending her broken leg. "Where's Harry?"

He wasn't aware he had spoken aloud until a tall redhead walked over and placed an arm around his shoulders. "Dumbledore said to be on the lookout for you," the man said casually.

"Where's Harry?"

"I'm Bill," the man continued on as though uninterrupted. "I'm afraid Harry is slightly indisposed at the moment."

"Indisposed?" Draco felt sick; he could feel his muscles starting to spasm. Bill gave him a concerned look, trying to steer him towards one of the beds. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Snape spoke up from behind, eyeing the room with a look so cold Draco wondered how the purple flame didn't freeze on the spot. "That some abysmally stupid individual gave Harry an oxidizing element."

"What does that mean?" Neville asked, nervously standing next to Draco; where Blaise had abandoned him to run to Hermione. "Is that bad?" He quaked under the force of the Potions Master's glare, unconsciously latching onto to Draco's arm for support. Snape smirked at the telling gesture.

"Yes, Mr. Longbottom," he responded silkily, trembling with barely suppressed fury. He gestured to the purple flames now contained behind a bubble of containment wards. "Unless, of course, you prefer Mr. Potter as a ball of fire."

Draco's head whipped around to stare across the room. He could just vaguely make out the shape of a sleeping figure in the heart of the flames. He turned towards the door as Pansy, Greg, Vince, Dean, and Seamus raced in. "Harry…" he began. "Harry's on fire." He fainted, unable to process what was going on.

Ron, having flown in as Draco spoke, let out a particularly loud wail and molted all over the floor.

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Dare I ask for thoughts???


	10. Seven

Looonnnggg A/N. Feel free to skip it.

1. WOW! You light a five year old on fire and the reviews come pouring in. hahaha... man I love you guys.

2. In regards to Madame Pomphrey... nope, no Imperius curse. In canon, her character is one of the few characters I actively dislike. Even more so than I dislike Ron, if you can imagine. Rowling makes it a specific point to discuss Harry's lifestyle - he does not like to be touched, rarely initiates physical contact, is inept in social settings, cannot deal with deep emotions without becoming angry, grew up in a CUPBOARD, had bars on his window, a cat flap on his door, came back to school every year pale malnourished and unhappy, and was rescued in his fifth year from a LOCKED room while home alone. That's not to mention the obvious signs of neglect – ie: the broken glasses and ill fitting clothing. Umm... as a trained professional - and someone promising to take a vested interest in children's welfare - Pomphrey should have been all over Harry. The fact she wasn't... I have little sympathy for the woman. It made me feel slightly vindicated to make her evil by association. Ok, I'm off my soap box now. (deep sigh)

3. Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I'll try and get the next chapter up soon, but it may not be until after Christmas. Real life, and all that jazz. If not, I wish you all the happiest of holidays!

Kisses and Love -

Roo

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- SUNDAY NIGHT - DAY ONE -

Nobody precisely knew what had happened. Madame Pomphrey was inconsolable. It only took one fierce look and hissed death threat before the woman crumbled and ended up being shipped to St. Mungo's to avoid Professor Snape's wrath. Without the healer there to bear the brunt of his frustrations, Snape had contented himself with organizing the Hospital Wing to his satisfaction and offering scathing comments about how the woman had obviously been a Hufflepuff. Or bought her degree from a shady doctor in Knockturn Alley. Whatever. Hermione had woken up briefly, mumbled something about ice cream and bears, complimented Tonks on her hair - now a shocking lime green - and passed out again. Snape ordered her to remain in the Hospital Wing until he had the opportunity to scan her for residual side effects from the explosion.

"Residual side effects?" Kingsley Shacklebolt sounded alarmed as he gazed at the unmoving form on the bed.

Snape rolled his eyes, secretly grateful to lapse into impatient professor mode to avoid dwelling on the happily burning purple flame near the back of the room. "Yes," he snapped out. "As an Auror, I presume you have had basic training in chemicals?" At Kingsley's nod, he continued. "By themselves, oxidizers and chemicals," he sent the Headmaster a nasty look, "are fine. However, for example, were a little boy to become inundated with a particular chemical like Glycerine, the properties alter. Mixing these two substances together turns them into reactive hazards."

Tonks surveyed the scene, hands on hips. "And that's why Harry is cooking?" Blaise snorted out a laugh edged in hysteria. Professor McGonagall wordlessly offered a Calming Draught, offering one to the other children as well. Only the Gryffindor students accepted. Pansy silently toasted the teacher with one of the bottles of Firewhiskey she had somehow managed to produce on a moments notice.

"Correct," Snape answered tiredly. He took the proffered bottle and took a healthy drink before handing it back to his student. "The term reactive hazard is used to refer to a substance that undergoes a violent or abnormal reaction in the presence of water or under normal ambient atmospheric conditions." Neville's hand twitched slightly, as though wondering why he wasn't taking notes. Tonks snorted at the reaction, accepting her turn with the bottle before passing it to a pale faced Draco. "In the right setting," the professor continued, openly ignoring McGonagall's pursed lip disapproval, "the gases produced can travel faster than the speed of sound. This creates both a shock wave and noise." He sighed, eyes dwelling pensively on Hermione's still form. "If she was in contact with Harry when the blast occurred, it is only normal her reaction would be more extreme than that vile woman's."

"How could she give him an oxidizer?" Draco demanded hoarsely.

"I'm afraid it is because I agreed to let her." The shock in the room was palpable, all eyes turning to Professor Dumbledore. The old man sighed. "She was asked to give the potion only after ensuring the nutrients had been adequately absorbed in Harry's body. It never occurred to me that Madame Pomphrey would not test his body's chemical level, or take a blood sample before administering the potion." Weary blue eyes lingered on the dancing purple flame. "Whatever can we do now, Severus?"

Black eyes lingered in a poisonous glare before turning to where Harry's body was visible beneath the cheerfully burning flames. Now was not the time to verbally slay the Headmaster, uplifting though the though may be. "Now," he said tiredly, "we wait."

Ron chirped dolefully from amongst his rotting feathers.

- MONDAY - DAY TWO -

As was always the case with situations best left alone, the whole school was aware of the fact that Harry was in the Hospital Wing before breakfast. No one commented when the Head Girl was left in charge of Potions class; teaching a practical assignment. Left unsaid, as well, were the missing group of Slytherins and one know-it-all Gryffindor from classes. Ron went to his classes; carried around encased in an altered Bubble-Head Charm by loyal Neville after Snape had removed twenty points from Gryffindor when Ron's feathers began to smell.

Pansy and Blaise headed to the library in an attempt to focus their thoughts and research possible solutions for Harry's little problem. Pansy was sitting at a table, brow burrowed in concentration, when a photograph fluttered in front of her face moments before two Ravenclaw students slid into the empty chairs before her. "Frowning gives you wrinkles," a sweet voice announced. She looked up, observing the two petite girls with curly brown hair and brown eyes.

"Hello Miranda, Serena," she greeted politely. She looked down, studying the photograph. In it, a very young Draco was stamping his foot in annoyance, face flushed, while an equally young Pansy practiced flipping her hair off her face and smiling at the cute boy on her left. The boy in question was holding onto his scowling sister, Miranda, while looking bored and irritated. Greg and Vince looked lost and uncomfortable; standing close to Draco while Blaise looked around him in apparent boredom. Serena was on the other side of Pansy, talking to an elaborately dressed Luna Lovegood. It was taken at a party hosted by Miranda's family. She set the photograph down carefully, thoughtfully eying the girls in front of her. "Purebloods always did have the most boring social rituals."

A flash of relief crossed Serena's face. "It is difficult," she said carefully, glancing around at the surrounding tables with studied casualness, "that children grew up playing with others as equals, only to be separated by class yet again in school."

"It always did seem rather contradictory to isolate those already separated," Pansy agreed.

Miranda exchanged a look with Serena. "Word has it that you and your clique are siding with Harry."

Pansy arched an eyebrow, arms coming up slowly to cross over her chest. "Siding?" she questioned mildly. "If you consider comforting a frightened child to be siding," she paused, lowering her voice. "Then yes."

Serena slid a compact out of her bag, flipping it open as she dabbed on lipstick. She studied her reflection critically. "I have to be careful with the makeup I choose," she said. "Being as I have an autumn complexion." She looked over the rim of her compact at Pansy. "I look my best in warmer colors."

She studied the two girls in front of her. Wordlessly she pocketed the photograph before returning to the book in front of her. "It's a shame my clique and I will be missing our classes until Harry gets better," she said finally.

Miranda opened her eyes in innocent confusion. "Will you be?" She smirked.

Pansy smiled down at the book she was reading. "Always nice getting reacquainted with old friends." She didn't look up when the girls stood and left the library. Didn't look up when Blaise flopped into the seat next to her and she slid the photograph over to him. It wasn't until he sucked in a breath of understanding over why Pansy would have a photograph containing two pureblood children not sorted into Slytherin that she finally raised her head and looked at her friend. "September is not far from Christmas," she said quietly. "Those unable to make decisions for themselves have begun looking to us for… direction. We need to make plans."

One floor below, Kingsley was helping Vince transfer potion ingredients from the dungeons to the Hospital Wing where Snape had set up a temporary residence. Draco and Greg sat quietly in vigil; guarding Harry's warded bubble. Tonks stood at the door to the library, flirting shamelessly with the students as she sent them away. Up in his office, Dumbledore paced.

Still they waited.

- TUESDAY - DAY THREE -

The teachers offered no protest when carefully completed assignments were turned in for the missing students; though none had, as yet, ventured further from the Hospital Wing than the library, and Hermione was still unconscious. Even when Harry had a week's worth of assignments turned in, nothing more was done than Professor Flitwick assigning ten points to Gryffindor for a remarkable propensity towards multi-tasking.

Around one in the afternoon, three equally distracting events occurred less than five minutes apart. It started with Ron; walking into the Hospital Wing with bruises on his arms and surrounded by the faintly sour smell of unripened fruit. He took the bruise salve from Professor Snape with a wince and heartfelt thanks; cast a half-hearted wave towards Harry's lively burning bubble, and walked out whimpering vaguely about Gryffindor tower, hot shower, and killing his siblings. Greg helpfully pointed out that committing murder was enough to warrant a stay in Azkaban.

Shortly after Ron limped out dejectedly, Hermione woke up screaming for Harry. Blaise and Draco tried to hold her down to the bed, shouting at her to be still so they could administer a calming draught. Pansy, relating as only another girl can to excessive displays of emotion, straddled Hermione's waist and slapped her soundly across the face. She then poured the draught into Hermione's gaping mouth. "Where's Har Bear?" Hermione finally asked tearfully.

"Oh just smoldering away," Tonks announced, with an airy wave of her hand towards the deepening purple flame. Hermione followed her gesture, glimpsed the little figure buried under the flames, and promptly began wailing. Snape gave the girl a disgusted look and stunned her.

Blaise had just drawn in a breath to yell at his teacher when Fred and George Weasley entered holding a newspaper. They looked around; noting Blaise and Draco still standing next to an unconscious Hermione, Greg and Vince playing Exploding Snap on another bed, and Pansy straightening her hair as she resumed reading the thick tome in front of her. Then, of course, there was the mass of bright flame surrounding a prone figure on the floor. Fred turned to George. "Would you look at that," he remarked casually. "Out of school not one year and we're already not invited to the best parties."

"Damn shame it is," George agreed sadly.

Pansy rolled her eyes expressively. "May I help you with something?"

Fred wiggled his eyebrows at the girl. "That remains to be seen, darling."

George winked, giving the confused girl a wicked grin before tossing the paper on the foot of her bed. "We came to join the orgy."

Draco reached over and snatched up the paper. On the front page, dead center, was a large picture of Harry grinning bashfully. Next to his face the headline screamed: "Boy-Who-Lived in Secret Dalliance with Students!" Rita Skeeter went on to announce how one Mr. Harry Potter had recently been reported as continuously in the company of five well connected and wealthy pureblood students. "They spend ages locked together in one bedroom," an anonymous informant was quoted as saying. The reporter went on to express concern about rumors flying over the fact that Harry had been ensconced in the temporarily locked down Hospital Wing with these same students for nearly two days. Another informant went on to say; "Harry's a Gryffindor and the other demons…err…students are Slytherins. They must be doing something highly inappropriate!" Rita ended her article by reaffirming the fact that Harry was a chronic rule breaker, and was, in the words of Madame Senior Undersecretary Umbridge, "An attention seeking prat who needs to be punished!"

"Unbelievable!" Pansy managed to choke out through her laughter.

"What?" Draco snapped. "The fact that we are portrayed as manipulative and inherently evil?"

"No," Pansy giggled, wiping away her tears of mirth and tossing the paper to Blaise. "The fact that even unconscious Harry has a better status in the public than we do." Vince, Greg, and the twins gave her confused looks. She sighed. "Think about it. Harry's only sixteen, yet his escapades are such that him being potentially sexual deviant warrants front page news." She patted Draco's arm consolingly as the room exploded with laughter. "Keep trying, love. Maybe next year."

Fred gave Pansy an admiring look. "I think I rather like Harry's new friends, George."

George slapped Draco playfully on the back. "Yep," he agreed. "The 'manipulative and inherently evil' bastards kind of grow on you, don't they?" He cocked his head, studying the Slytherins with new eyes. "How do you guys feel about sweets?"

Looking around, Fred cut Vince and Greg's enthusiastic declaration of love short. "Oi! Anyone seen ickle Ronnikins?"

- WEDNESDAY - DAY FOUR -

The day started off badly.

Spirits riding on the hope that Harry would soon awaken drooped. Pansy, Draco, Blaise, and Kingsley were all bloodshot and bad tempered after spending another sleepless night pouring through books of spells and potions that would not cause further damage to Harry's little body. Minister Fudge had sent an owl last night expressing his fury over not being informed of the situation and demanding to know why Headmaster Dumbledore was refusing him admittance to the school. Kingsley had sent off a placating reply, Tonks had gone to the gates of the school to assure the press of the ministry's involvement in the matter, and yet another day had slipped away. Fawkes had shown up as well. He sat quietly next to the warded bubble, singing plaintively to the stressed individuals and Harry's brightly burning mass.

Hermione had finally been released from her spell. For hours after waking up she lay in bed watching the flames; silent tears dripping down her face. Around noon she seemed to snap out of it, and shakily relayed Sunday's events. Even Snape didn't have the heart to do more than remove an additional thirty points from Gryffindor, considering how heart broken the girl was. She had trusted the healer, had remembered Snape's concern over Harry's chemical level, and had prevented Harry from consuming the entire potion once she recognized the potential damage. The professor even awkwardly congratulated her for the fact that she had managed to process the information at all. After showering and eating, Hermione begged for an extended pass to the Restricted Section and disappeared.

Professor Dumbledore entered the infirmary shortly thereafter, followed by a short plump woman with fluffy blonde hair and kind blue eyes. The woman, Healer Goldenseal, would be filling in for a few days until Madame Pomphrey was cleared from questioning and a short vacation. The headmaster spoke quietly with Professor Snape for a few minutes, greeted his students cordially, and left after a pained look in Harry's direction. Fawkes trilled reassuringly from his post near the lively flames. Snape was furious over not being told in advance to expect a new arrival, and answered all her questions sharply while Vince and Greg helped him rearrange his ingredients. Pansy and Tonks helped the healer section off the Hospital Wing so other injured students could actually enter, while Draco and Blaise helped Kingsley set up wards around the new partitions so unauthorized people could neither see nor approach the writhing purple flames.

Hermione returned shortly before dinner, followed closely by Ginny and Luna. All three were heavily laden down with books, and waited rather impatiently for Kingsley to allow them past the wards. Ginny looked like she was about to cry, but Luna studied the elegant flames with interest. "Oh," she said, sounding slightly disappointed. "You were being literal."

Draco blinked at the ditzy blonde in confusion. "Pardon?"

In response, Luna removed the day's edition of the Daily Prophet. Pansy, reading over Draco's shoulder, was the first to start giggling. "Corruption in the Ministry!" the headline screamed. A picture of Tonks standing behind the gates of Hogwarts winked up at them. Rita Skeeter had a hay day with this article; loudly proclaiming that although the Auror's had been sent to Hogwarts to investigate the recent hospitalization of Harry Potter, notorious troublemaker, and his corrupt band of heathens, what good were they accomplishing? "Yes, Harry and six other students are currently in the Hospital Wing. However, they are suffering, um, residual effects of a … spell gone wrong. Nothing malicious." So they claim! However, yesterday Harry had been reported with five children by his side… now six? An anonymous tip from a faithful reader revealed that one Hermione Granger had recently been in contact with this same group, and was also ensconced in the Hospital Wing. Rita Skeeter reminded her readers that in an exclusive interview when Harry Potter was fourteen, he revealed he was intimately involved with Miss Granger before the girl ruthlessly shattered his heart and left him for the Bulgarian bon bon, Viktor Krum. Nymphadora Tonks, Auror stationed at Hogwarts, giggled and made these comments when pressed about The Boy Who Lived. "Oh, yes, he's in there. We're keeping our distance, though. Just being close to Harry makes me sweat." In a liaison that has already infiltrated six students and an Auror, how safe is Hogwarts from this madness? And what does the Headmaster have to say about this situation? Are any of the students safe?

Blaise patted a gob smacked Draco's shoulder soothingly. "May take you longer than a year to beat his reputation, now."

"How… I mean, you… What?" Draco stammered.

"Provided they do not figure out what is really going on," Snape spoke without looking up; carefully measuring ingredients for the burn salve he was making. "I do not care what the idiots report."

It was after dinner that the final piece of an exceptionally tiring day fell into place. The twins had reappeared and were cautiously trying to sneak vials past the wards for a sample of Harry's flame. The fire, however, was hot enough to shatter glass and melt iron; leaving them disappointed and frustrated. Hermione, Ginny, Blaise, and Draco were fully immersed in their readings; occasionally debating significant points. Pansy was lying on the bed next to Draco, giving herself and Greg manicures, reaching out to occasionally pet Draco when he would release a hiss of frustration. Luna was braiding Tonks' hair while dreamily discussing her sudden craving for roasted marshmallows with Vince. Kingsley was stationed by the door, conversing quietly with Professor Flitwick, and Snape was muttering to himself and glaring at Harry's prone form while flipping through varying books on rare potions.

Everyone looked up, startled, when Remus Lupin came striding through the doors. "What the fuck is going on?" he yelled, waving his hand where a letter and two days worth of newspapers were tightly clutched.

Tonks looked up from where she was sitting on the floor. "Wotcher, Remmy! Dumbledore sending more Order members to watch Harry?" She looked over to where the twins were standing next to the wards with identical innocent expressions. "He's really not doing much at the moment," she offered cheerfully.

He followed her gaze, knees buckling in shock at the sight of the little body immersed in flames. "That's Harry?" he asked weakly. He looked around, pointing to the students with a pleading desperation. "But I thought… What… What's going on?"

"Mary's little lamb is now being raised by wolves." Tonks offered helpfully. She looked around. "Err... snakes, that is."

Luna giggled.

- THURSDAY - DAY FIVE -

Continuous lack of sleep did not agree with the students. Luna and Ginny were delighted to skip their morning classes, and spent the morning talking to the wards surrounding Harry. Ginny predominately talked to Fawkes, unsure of why they were speaking towards an unconscious body, but Luna happily bubbled about her life, her classes, the interesting flower she saw amidst the snow on the Quidditch Pitch, the dark aura surrounding the minister's office, and a pretty stone she had charmed for luck. She had just placed the stone at the very edge of Harry's wards when the Slytherin students returned. Hermione, Ron, and Neville arrived shortly thereafter. "Professor Sprout just complimented me on my research paper I turned in yesterday," Hermione said bemusedly in greeting. "I tried to tell her I hadn't been in class, but she assured me I must have since my paper was in top form like normal." She shook her head in bewilderment, gesturing to the package in her arms. "Then she gave me this Gorse flower to give to Harry." She hesitated, looking unsure, before placing the potted flower by the wards and crossing over to where Blaise sat on one of the beds.

"Imagine that," Pansy said in a surprised tone of voice, tying her hair up before reaching for a new book.

"Startling," Blaise agreed. He pulled Hermione into his lap, kissing her temple. "Best not worry about it, Prediletto. So long as you know you are still brilliant in classes while distracted."

Hermione frowned, absently running her fingers through Blaise's hair. "I must have hit my head harder than I thought, though. I really don't remember writing any essay. And did I go to class yesterday?"

"Course you did," Neville piped up unblushingly. "You were really tired though. Maybe you should take a nap or something."

"Yeah," Hermione answered vaguely.

Draco looked at Luna in confusion. He really could not understand what Harry saw in the girl. But she had gone with him into the Department of Mysteries last year, so she must have some redeeming values. It would not do to alienate Harry's friends before he became a teenager again. "Loony," he inquired politely. "Why are you putting rocks around Harry?" He was rather proud of his civil tone of voice.

"He needs it," she answered vaguely. "Oh look," she inattentively commented. "Harry's twitching."

Everyone rushed to the edges of the wards and stared fearfully. Except for Luna. She gazed out the window, dreamily singing "Weasley Is Our King" under her breath. Through the flickering purple flames they could vaguely make out Harry's body. His face was screwed up, his arms and legs moving restlessly. As they stared, horrified, Harry's back arched off the floor, his mouth opening in a silent scream. He held that position for several long seconds before collapsing down onto the floor. He did not move again. "Oh it's just horrible," Ginny whispered, burrowing into Ron's shoulder. He patted his sister's back absent mindedly, eyes still fixed hopefully on Harry's prone figure.

"Do you think he's in pain?" Hermione whispered, tears streaming down her face. Draco shook his head wordlessly, tense and anxious.

"No," Luna languorously replied, still gazing out the window. "But he is."

Professor Snape turned away from the sight of Harry on the floor with an impatient oath. He beckoned to Neville, holding out his hand imperiously. The boy approached nervously, yelping when the teacher used his wand to slice a cut along Neville's arm. Snape ignored the boy, carefully selecting a sampling of blood and adding a potion to it with a dropper. The blood went up in flames. Snape sighed. "Obviously not yet," he muttered. He winced suddenly, grabbing his arm as pain shot through his nervous system. "Do not leave Harry unattended," he barked. The students nodded, not one daring to open their mouth in the face of their Potions Master's ire.

He strode out of the room, reaching the door just as Remus Lupin reentered. "Stay," he commanded, pointing to a spot on the floor. Lupin stopped moving in surprise; exactly on the spot Snape had pointed to. "Good dog," he said scathingly, before sweeping out of sight. Lupin gazed angrily at the back of the departing teacher, only turning away when Ginny and Hermione clutched his arms and started telling him about Harry.

- FRIDAY - DAY SIX -

Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Snape stood gazing down on the animatedly burning flames; speaking quietly so as not to wake the slumbering students. "If my calculations are correct," Snape drawled, "he should be waking up any day now."

"You are certain?"

"Unlike some individuals in your employ," he said bluntly, irritated beyond measure he was being questioned in his area of expertise, "I do not make foolish bets on student's health and safety."

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Sometimes the cruelest of results are done with the best of intentions." He gazed around at the sleeping students. "He felt Harry's pain?"

Snape nodded. "I was called for questioning over why the Dark Lord had been in agony all week." He winced, muscles remembering the curses meant to loosen his tongue. "He was displeased with my explanation that I was not allowed into the Hospital Wing and you had Order members guarding the door."

"He will know soon enough, I fear."

"I think he already suspects," Tonks said, slipping into the room. She handed a letter to the headmaster. "This just came from Fudge," she explained, "Kingsley and I are to report to the Ministry for reassignment first thing Monday morning." She sighed, looking over to the purple flames. "Harry's still having a blast, I see."

Obsidian eyes closed briefly. "After nearly a week, you don't think your pathetic attempt at humor is getting old?"

"Nope," Tonks said cheerfully, grinning at the professor. "Come on, you know you love my sense of humor."

"I am a puddle of giggles," Snape answered, completely deadpan. Tonks laughed, tripping over her own feet in her humor and collapsing onto a bed.

Dumbledore smiled at their antics. "Let's get some rest," he suggested calmly, casting one last glance at the students sleeping nearby. "We need to be fresh and alert, should Harry come back to us soon."

The Hospital Wing went silent as the adults left. Draco waited a full five minutes before sitting up. "You hear that?" he asked.

"Every word;" Pansy sat up as well. Blaise, Hermione, Greg, and Vince all nodded in agreement.

"Does that mean Harry gets to come home soon?" Greg asked hopefully.

Draco nodded determinedly. "If they even try to stop us, we're taking him away."

"Where would we go?" Hermione asked, silently daring him to contradict her plural pronoun.

He looked at the dancing flames. "This is not the place to discuss such matters," he said smoothly. He met Pansy's eyes briefly, long enough to share an almost imperceptible nod. "Let's just say that Slytherins always have a back up plan."

Hermione looked like she wanted to argue, but Blaise pulled her back down onto the bed, spooning up behind her. Greg, Vince, and Pansy followed suit; drifting off to sleep. Draco lay in the dark, staring for a long time. He needed Harry to get better. It was frightening how fast he had grown attached to the boy. Although, in some way, Harry had always been able to procure strong emotions from him. He lay on his side, contemplating the shadows caused by the flickering flames. He had kept watch over Harry this long exhausting week. If it took him the rest of his life, he would ensure Harry remained protected. Comforted by that though, Draco finally allowed his eyes to close and fell into a fitful sleep.

- SATURDAY - DAY SEVEN -

At twelve o'clock on the dot, the fire went out with a silent hiss, the wards collapsing mere seconds later. Harry opened his eyes.

He reached up, wiping his eyes, trying to remove the goopy membrane that appeared to be covering him. Wincing, he sat up, looking around him in confusion. He must have smacked his head harder than he thought when Uncle Vernon had thrown him into his cupboard. He didn't mean to set the snake at the zoo on Dudley! It had been an accident. Harry sighed, struggling to wipe of the slimy ooze covering him as he stumbled to his feet. Where was he? It looked familiar, like a dream within a dream. Had he been here before? Harry looked around in bewilderment. There was a pretty stone lying nearby; he reached out, muscles tensing in protest, and picked it up. Pretty, he mused, watching the fractured light sparkle off its surface.

Harry felt his muscles relax as a large bird with a beautiful scarlet and gold plumage settled itself on his shoulder. Following its low pitched octaves, Harry breathed a sigh of relief when the bird led him to a bathroom. There wasn't a lock on the door. Harry bit his lip, looking between the bird and the door anxiously. He was vulnerable in the shower. Dudley liked to pick on him when his defenses were low. What if someone came in and tried to hurt him when he was in the shower? A memory popped into his head, from a long long time ago when he was just a little boy. Harry rubbed his scar absently, trying to focus. Something about him being a sly... a snake… a Slytherin! That was it! He was a Slytherin…. And Slytherins didn't crumble under the unknown… they either faked their way through it or demanded assistance. Straightening his shoulders, Harry gave the bird a stern look. "Make sure no one come in when I'm in the shower," he demanded. The bird gave him a level look, huffing irritably. Harry blushed. "Please?" he amended, relieved when the bird appeared to nod its scarlet head.

It felt good to shower, like he hadn't had a shower in quite awhile. He lingered; enjoying the sense of privacy, the lack of angry voices bellowing on the other side of the door, the inexplicable feeling of safety he felt being here. It wasn't until he stepped out of the shower that he realized he didn't have any clean clothes. He looked around uncertainly, noting the neatly folded piles of clothing placed in different cubbyholes. Harry looked at the bird for direction, following the inclination of Fawkes' head to the pile on top of the others on the right side. The fabrics felt nice under his hands, a familiar smell rising up and making him smile. It reminded him of another memory: one of the few times he felt safe as a child. He slipped on a pair of pajamas, laughing quietly to himself as the fabric pooled past his feet and down over his hands; the waistband threatening to slide off his narrow hips. Good thing he had plenty of experience wearing clothes far too big for him, Harry reflected with a wry smile.

Fawkes glided to his shoulder, trilling reassuringly as Harry once again clenched his hand around the sparkling rock and hesitated before entering the room he had so recently left. Harry studied the people sleeping in the beds. Two people were curled up in the bed closest to him; a girl with wild golden curls and a boy with silky black hair. Next to them, spaced a few feet apart, two hulking boys who reminded him of his cousin Dudley slept; one holding a stuffed unicorn, the other a comfortable fleece blanket. A girl was in the bed next to theirs, blonde hair spilling across the pillows, face buried under the covers. In the last bed a boy slept. Pale hair accentuated by moonlight made him appear to be glowing, even as his face screwed up and he tossed fitfully in sleep. Harry hesitated by his bed. He didn't know if it was because the other people in the room were bathed in shadows, but this boy looked familiar. He reminded him of a boy he had dreamed about when he was little. His imaginary fiend. His protector.

Harry bit his lip, looking around nervously. There were no more beds in this room. Fawkes trilled again, informing him of the many beds available of the other side of the crude partition breaking the Hospital Wing in half. Harry looked reluctantly at the door on the far side of the room. He didn't want to go through it. He felt safe here; reassured somehow. He bit his lip again, looking down at the sleeping form. If this boy was his friend, the one he remembered protecting him and defending him when he was just a baby, then surely… surely this boy wouldn't mind if Harry slept on the other side of his bed?

Cautiously, he lifted up the blankets; climbing in as quietly as possible so as not to disturb the sleeping form. Harry stiffened, surprised and slightly worried, when the blonde boy reached out and pulled him close to his side. "Stop moving, you cheese head," the blonde muttered; yawning hugely. "It's too early to wake up." Harry relaxed instantly when a hand came up and began rubbing the back of his neck. He felt so very safe. Sighing, he yawned, cuddling close to his best friend, breathing easier as the hand continued rubbing his neck until he fell asleep.

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Well... a lot happened in this chapter. Did you catch it all?

Thoughts...


	11. So, What Now?

Couldn't resist one more chapter before Christmas.

Kisses!

Roo

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It was probably time to get up and start breakfast.

Harry was so warm, so comfortable, felt so very safe, that if it hadn't been for the consistency of routine he would have slept longer. He kept his eyes closed as he awoke, taking stock of his placement. He was curled up, sleeping on something warm; something that… breathed? Hesitantly, Harry cracked an eye open – and stared at a solid wall of white. He blinked, trying not to be alarmed when flashes of his dreams began whispering through his mind. Harry blinked again. He wasn't in his cupboard. He was laying on his side, curled up against a sleeping body; face burrowed between strong shoulder blades, one arm flung carelessly over a waist, the other entangled in something impossibly soft; one knee tucked up securely against the side of the body next to him. He lifted his head slightly, looking over and away, and felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of five people sleeping in beds next to his. Where was he?

His head was spinning. Dimly, he remembered showering and crawling into bed with his imaginary friend last night. Hadn't that been part of his dream, though? Harry studied the sleeping students. They looked familiar, and oddly comforting. One of the girls reminded him of his mother; or, how he imagined he remembered his mother, anyways. He wasn't aware he was twisting his hand in the fabric of the shirt below him until the body inside the shirt stirred; the boy flipping onto his back, Harry's other hand sliding out of blonde hair as sleepy gray eyes blinked at him. Harry froze, absolutely mortified to realize he was still curled up against the blonde boys' side. He was ten years old! Ten year olds do not cuddle strange people in sleep!

The blonde yawned, stretching lazily. "You're taller," he said blearily, reaching up to rub his eyes. "Call your elf, Potter, I definitely need coffee this morning." He shook his head. "Had the weirdest dream," he muttered. "Purple flames, poor werewolves, stupid Weasley birds, flowers and rocks, and Longbottom trying to hold my hand." The boy closed his eyes again, turning onto his side and pulling Harry closer. Tentatively, Harry pressed his face into the warm neck, relaxing as he felt the boy smile against his hair and a hand come up to absently rub the back of his neck. He had been right last night; this boy was his friend.

"I dreamt about you," Harry offered shyly. "About how you were my friend. And those other people too. I think I know them." Harry closed his eyes, all set to go back to sleep. He didn't know how he had gotten here, didn't know why he wasn't in his cupboard, but this boy was nice and warm and made him feel safe. Harry decided he would be embarrassed about cuddling later. He yawned hugely, cuddling closer, happy when the arm around him tightened protectively. "And elves aren't real," he mumbled sleepily. "They live in books; everyone knows that."

The second time Harry woke up it was to the sound of hushed and slightly excited whispering. He opened his eyes, raising his head to blink at the people clustered together on the bed next to his. They were awake now. And they were smiling at him; almost as though they were genuinely glad to see him. Why would they be glad to see him? They had nice eyes, Harry decided; not like stupid Dudley and his ugly friends. He smiled back hesitantly, relieved when their smiles widened with happiness instead of becoming mocking jeers. "Hi, Har Bear," one of the girls greeted softly. "I'm… we're all… oh Harry, it's great that you're awake!"

"And not on fire anymore," one of the other boys piped up helpfully.

He didn't know why, normally bigger people made him tense and think about his vindictive relatives, but Harry found himself smiling again at the people in front of him. They made something warm, something vaguely familiar, spread in his chest. Maybe if he was very good they would let him stay longer. It was much quieter and nicer here than at… home. "My mum used to call me Har Bear," he said shyly, remembering his vague dreams of his mum taking care of him when he was sick and tired. The girl slapped a hand over her mouth, tears filling her eyes. "I'm sorry," Harry said anxiously. He had just met them and already he was making one of the people cry! They would definitely send an awkward freak like him away now. "I wasn't trying to say you were like my mum. You can call me Har Bear if you want to."

"It's all right, fancuillo," the black haired boy said smoothly, stroking the hair of the quietly crying girl. "We have been waiting for you to wake up for a long time. We'll call you whatever you want us to call you."

Harry smiled back; relieved he hadn't made his friends mad at him. "I don't mind what you call me," he admitted quietly. He rubbed his eyes, sitting up carefully so as not to wake the boy curled at his side. "Where am I?" he asked. The kids paused, looking between each other in confusion.

"Well, handsome," the girl with long blonde hair spoke up first. "You're at Hogwarts. That's a school," she rolled her eyes, "of sorts. I'm Pansy." She gestured to the others. "This is Greg, Vince, Hermione, and Blaise." Pansy gave him a thoughtful look. "Do you know the cutie you're snuggled up with?" Harry blushed, looking at the boy sleeping next to him, shaking his head. The girl smiled kindly at him, observing his reaction. "That's Draco, darling. We're your friends." Harry looked at the girl again, smiling at the word. He'd never been allowed to have friends before. They all smiled back as one; Greg offering a happy little wave.

"If this touching reunion has been concluded," a smooth voice drawled out, "perhaps I can examine Harry now."

"That's Professor Snape," Vince stage whispered to Harry.

Harry had turned at the voice, observing the tall man standing in the doorway; looking at him expressionlessly. He seemed to be reserving judgment on him for something. Harry smiled instinctively, remembering this man the same way he had remembered Draco. "Hello, sir." He frowned, his right hand coming up to absently rub at his scar. "Did I disobey you?"

Whatever the man had been expecting him to ask, the slight widening of his eyes revealed that this was clearly not it. "Did you…" He trailed off, eyes narrowing. His voice was much softer when he spoke again. "No, Harry, you did not disobey me. If anything, I have done you a great disservice for not respecting your fears in the first place." Troubled black eyes met bright green. "I hope I have not betrayed your trust in me." Harry was confused. His opinion mattered?

A groan interrupted the conversation. Draco rolled onto his back, flinging one arm over his face to block out the light. "I thought I told you to call your elf, Potter," he grumbled. Draco sat up so fast that only him grabbing onto Harry's arm and pinning him in place kept the boy from falling onto the floor. "HARRY!" He looked at the boy, running his hand over messy hair, up and down arms, pulling the boy back to study him before pulling him close for a crushing hug. "You're, you're… you're not on fire!" He finally settled on. "And you're tall! Well, no, you're really short. But you're taller than you were! And you're here!" He hugged the now blushing boy tightly again, pulling back with a beaming smile. "How are you not on fire? You know what, I don't care. Are you ok? Are you hungry?" Draco let go of Harry's arms with a horrified expression. "Are you hurting?" Harry, still blushing, mutely shook his head no, smiling shyly at the blonde. Draco hugged him again before seeming to recognize he had an audience. He pulled back, smoothing down his rumpled hair, looking around at the others with a haughty expression. "Anyone order coffee?" He looked back at Harry, seeming to need the reassurance that the little boy was still there. His brow crinkled. "Are you wearing my pajamas?"

A plump woman with frizzy blonde hair and kind blue eyes chuckled from the doorway. "Well, we're all certainly relieved to see you, young man," she practically sang out. Greg and Vince stood up in one smooth move, stepping between the woman and Harry. The healer smiled kindly at the two boys. "Never you fear," she soothed, inclining her head towards the teacher beside her. "Professor Snape here has already informed me I am not to be administering any potions without his express say so." She leaned forwards slightly, lowering her voice to a mock conspiratorial level. "Bit of a nasty grump in the morning, he is!" Harry smiled at the lady uncertainly, obediently climbing out of bed and walking towards her. He heard movement, and was turning to look when the healer spoke again. "A friend of yours, love?"

Harry glanced at the girl standing by his side with her arms crossed resolutely. "Yes," he admitted, smiling slightly at being able to publicly claim a friend. "This is my friend Herm… er…" He blushed, cringing slightly at the way the girls face had fallen at his introduction. "I don't really remember how to say your name," he admitted.

The girl offered him a watery smile. "You can call me, Mione," she said quietly.

Harry nodded, smiling, liking the sound of the name. He turned back to the healer. "This is my friend, Mione."

The lady smiled. "And you're Harry, and I'm Healer Goldenseal," she finished warmly. She reached out to pat Harry's head, noticing the way his big green eyes darkened though he made no move to stop her. She checked her movement, turning it into a gesture for him to precede her to the examining room. "We'll be done before you know it."

She waved her wand over Harry, talking to him about something called Quidditch at first, then allowing Hermione to tell Harry a story when the boy showed limited interest and confusion. Harry was just shivering in delight over the creepiness of something called The Chamber of Secrets, when the healer proclaimed him finished and sent him back to his friends. She approached Professor Snape, frowning, once Harry was happily being taught how to summon someone named Dobby. The professor raised an eyebrow, studying the troubled woman.

"At sixty eight pounds," she began quietly, "Harry is thin for his age, but not dangerously so. He's about in the twentieth percentile for his age." She glanced at the boy, smiling as his laughter rang out. "Fifty-five inches puts him in the thirtieth percentile for height," she paused. "Although I find it interesting to note that according to his chart, Harry is already three inches taller than he was upon admittance to the Hospital Wing at the end of his first year of Hogwarts." She consulted the chart again. "And only four pound lighter than he was then."

"Umm," Professor Snape murmured in reply; watching the boy interact hesitantly with the other students.

Healer Goldenseal sighed, handing Harry's chart to the teacher. "He's been neglected." It wasn't a question. "I recommend three specific nutrient formulas for him. They're detailed in my report." She paused, one hand on the door as she prepared to leave. "Someone needs to take care of that little boy."

"Indeed."

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"No, no, no. Absolutely not! I forbid it!"

This time Harry joined Professor Snape in rolling his eyes at Minerva McGonagall as she hysterically ranted at the headmaster. It had been two hours since he had woken up in the infirmary, and already it had been a busy morning. After eating, allowing Healer Goldenseal to examine him and providing Professor Snape with a sampling of blood, getting reacquainted with the people who claimed Harry referred to them as his snakes, and changing into more of Draco's clothes that Pansy helpfully shrunk, the Transfiguration teacher had peeked into Harry's half of the Hospital Wing and seen him awake. She had immediately insisted upon a meeting with the headmaster. The Slytherins had been livid. Following their Potions Master's instructions to transfer all his ingredients and materials back to the dungeons while they waited with the utmost of reluctance; promising to meet Harry in the hallway after his meeting was done. After refusing both tea and sweets like Professor Snape did, Harry had innocently commented that he wanted to stay with his snakes. Professor McGonagall had angrily inserted that Harry was about the age of a first year, meaning he would fit right in with the other Gryffindor students. There was no longer a reason to allow him to go gallivanting around with the Slytherin students.

Fawkes flew to Harry's shoulder, trilling urgently. Harry gave the bird a weak smile before turning to McGonagall with an angry glare. "I'm not a Gryffindor, yet! I want to stay with my snakes," he said firmly. Snape gave the woman a victorious smile.

"That's ridiculous!" She blustered. "Harry, you are now old enough to be considered school age. You will join your classmates and that is final."

"No."

Minerva threw up her hands in frustration, turning to the Headmaster. "Albus…" she said imploringly.

Professor Dumbledore sighed, rubbing his beard gently as he studied the mutinous tilt of Harry's head. He did not remember the boy being this headstrong at such a young age. "Harry," he began quietly. "I like snakes." He smiled at the boy, blue eyes twinkling gently. "However, there is a difference in how students will react to a boy of five and a boy of ten." He paused, observing the angry sparkle in bright green eyes. 'It may not be safe for you to remain in the dungeons."

Fawkes trilled in Harry's ear again. "I don't remember my snakes ever hurting me," Harry said fiercely.

The adults gasped. Snape crossed his arms and settled himself more comfortably in his seat. "What is that supposed to mean?" McGonagall demanded, shocked over the implication she or the headmaster would intentionally hurt a student.

"I could hear you," Harry announced. "When I was dreaming and everything was purple and it hurt to move and I was bleeding onto the floor." They winced at Harry's description. "Fawkes says it wasn't a dream. Fawkes says I was on fire for a week, and it was because you allowed some doctor to give me drugs without making sure it was ok to give me drugs in the first place." Fawkes trilled shrilly, nibbling gently on Harry's ear to get his attention.

"What is Fawkes saying to you?" The headmaster questioned gently, eyes on his Phoenix.

Harry blushed. "He says to tell you to shut up," he admitted, looking scared over what Dumbledore's reaction would be. Reassured over an answering chuckle, Harry continued. "Then he keeps quoting something, but I don't know what it means."

"Please," Dumbledore waved his hand entreatingly. "Do share. I am sure between the four of us we can wade through the mass to find a reasonable rationalization." Harry hesitated, looking up at Fawkes uncertainly, before stating:

**Childhood was a slippery diving board  
on which often my heart cracked, bouncing,  
splashing, into piranha-hosted orgies.  
Thrill of being noticed so intoxicating  
that I didn't mind being eaten alive.  
The more my life bled, the louder it laughed. **

**In daylight I tended carefully my garden of  
darkness singing secret terrors to the earth.  
Thus did language authorize my fear  
to dismiss itself––and knowledge empower  
my body to act with passionate wisdom.  
Out of muddy turds flew freedomsongs of mystic blue**

Harry blushed, embarrassed. It was so not cool to quote poetry! Especially in front of grown ups! "Fawkes says it relates to my life," he finished in a small voice; wanting nothing more than to run and hide until these people stopped making him quote things and let him go hide with his snakes. "I don't know what it means," he repeated. "Do you?"

Blue eyes welled with silent tears. Dumbledore looked away from the small boy in front of him for a minute. "Minerva, Severus," he said at least. "I wish to speak with Harry in private." The Potions Master looked like he wanted to argue, but one look at the Headmaster's face made him silently incline his head in agreement. He paused, gently pressing his hand to messy hair, before turning and striding after Professor McGonagall. Harry shifted nervously in his chair; suddenly intimidated without his snake near him. "Harry," Dumbledore said quietly, "Sometimes the cruelest of results occur from the best of intentions." He smiled at the irony of this repeated phrase. "I have failed you," he said, suddenly serious. "But everything I have done, I did with the belief it was what was best for you."

Harry scowled at the words. "That's what Uncle Vernon said when he locked me in my cupboard for a week." He didn't want to look at the man in front of him anymore; directing his attention to the now silent Fawkes as he jumped lightly to Harry's knee.

"Childhood was a slippery diving board on which my heart cracked," the headmaster quoted. They sat in silence for long minutes. "Harry," he finally said quietly. "I am going to ask you something I should have asked you a long time ago. What is it that you want? Truly want, that is; not what you think people want for you."

He sat petting Fawkes, thinking over the question. He looked up and met serious blue eyes. "I want to stay with my snakes," he said honestly.

"Why?" The question was gentle, lacking malice or suspicion.

Harry frowned, thinking hard on his blurry dreams; the scenes he had half managed to convince himself weren't real until his snakes and Fawkes told him they were memories – not dreams. "They taught me to swim," he started; frowning in concentration. "And they bought me a present; one just for me that I didn't have to wait until Dudley broke or got tired of before getting to play with. They said they were sorry when they got mad, and kept me safe." He looked up again, smiling sweetly; looking innocent and shy and so reminiscent of the little five year old of last week that Dumbledore again felt a part of his soul clench painfully in response. "I really like them," he admitted. "They make me feel safe." He shrugged. "And Draco smells good, and they don't sleep loudly."

Professor Dumbledore chuckled quietly, pretending to ignore Harry's pinkening cheeks. "Harry, do you remember our discussion on perception?" Harry shook his head, looking guilty and nervous. Was this question going to decide whether or not he could stay with his snakes? "I am proud of you. Proud of the way you are evolving in your thoughts on people and the world in general." He paused, twinkle reappearing brightly in his eyes, choosing his words with care. "For as long as you are so inclined, you may stay with your snakes."

The bright smile practically lit up the room. Fawkes hooted approvingly; finally choosing to leave Harry's knee to soar to his perch. "Thank you, sir!" Harry exclaimed. He shifted impatiently in his seat, listening politely as the Headmaster explained he wasn't sure how much longer Harry would be a child; there had been a terrible potions accident, la la la. Harry didn't really care what was being said; he got to stay with his friends! The minute he was dismissed, he carefully exited; reminding himself he would be punished for running and making a scene. Plus, he was ten. Ten year olds did not skip in hallways!

He walked straight to Draco, hesitating before reaching out; secretly thrilled when the boy draped an arm loosely around his shoulders. "I get to stay with you guys still!" he bubbled happily.

Professor Snape smirked, ignoring McGonagall's tight lipped disapproval as she swept back into the Headmaster's office. "I want you to come to my office before you go to the Slytherin common room." He turned, walking down the hall; secure in the knowledge his students would obey and follow him.

Vince yawned as they walked, stretching his arms over his head, "Do you still take naps, Harry?" he asked hopefully.

"Course not," Harry said; sincerely shocked. "I've never taken naps."

"You did when you were five," Greg said wistfully.

Harry glanced between the two boys in bemusement. Aunt Petunia certainly never let him sleep in the afternoon when there was work to be done or she had an excuse to kick him out of the house. His friends looked awfully disappointed, though. And he was still tired. It would be incredible to be so lazy during the day. "I am kind of tired," he said, smiling as the boys perked up and grinned. "Maybe a small rest would be nice."

"Just for today," Hermione agreed, relieved, smothering a yawn of her own. "It's been a long week."

"I'm sorry I made you worried," Harry apologized guiltily; Draco switched his arm from Harry's shoulder to his neck, rubbing reassuringly.

"Don't ever apologize for something that isn't your fault, Harry," he said in a bored tone of voice. He held the door to the Potions classroom open for Harry to enter. "You're better than that."

Harry laughed, wandering around the room curiously and examining the varying ingredients and potions in varying stages of completion with great interest. Harry rather suspected Potions was his favorite class. He liked being in this room. He looked down, smiling sympathetically at the little mouse on the floor that had scratched itself on the leaves of the plant on the floor. "Careful, he whispered. "Aunt Petunia grows those sometimes. The Gorse flower has really prickly leaves. You'll only hurt yourself worse if you keep trying to smell the flowers. Try that one," he said, pointing to a potted plant with bright yellow flowers close by. Harry turned when his name was called; walking towards his friends without a backwards glance.

It wasn't until nearly an hour later when they were preparing to leave the classroom that Hermione paled dramatically; seeing the tail end of a rat wiggling desperately from where it was trapped inside one of the cheerful blooms. "Oh that's awful!" she cried, reaching down to help. Professor Snape caught her wrist, stopping her squeamish attempt.

"There's nothing you can do to help the beast," he said caustically. He nodded towards the potted plant. "That is an Uncarina grandidieri," he continued. "Commonly known as the 'mouse trap.' There are small, inwardly pointed barbs inside that plant, trapping its victim helplessly inside." His eyes gleamed. "There is nothing to be done to help the creature."

"Cool," Vince said, impressed.

"I think I'm ready for my rest now," Harry said; staring at the plant with a conflicted expression on his face. He made no protest when the Slytherins surrounded him and ushered him to the section of wall hiding the common room.

"Pharmakon," Blaise announced smoothly. Draco pulled Harry's arm gently, directing him to their room. The boy climbed into bed quickly; feeling tired, overwhelmed, and slightly disquieted as he though about the rat being killed by the plant. There was something about the rat that was familiar to him. Reminding him of the strong scent of dust and decay; an angry sting of betrayal. He closed his eyes; rubbing his right wrist lightly as if remembering past pain. Harry would never admit it out loud – gah, how embarrassing! – but a feeling of security swept through him when one of his bedposts began glowing with a soft warm light. He snuggled deeper under the cozy blue fleece now draped over his shoulders as he listened to the quiet murmurs of his friends in the background. He reached out, tentatively smoothing a hand over the furry head of the unicorn hidden beneath his pillow, and smiled as he drifted to sleep.

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"You were covered in a goopy membrane when you woke up?"

Harry nodded at Hermione, unable to speak past the large mass of Treacle Tart he was eating. He'd spent a quiet afternoon relaxing and playing games with his friends in his room. They had talked about Harry's memories, trying to fill in the blanks for him as best they could. Blaise had laughed about feeding the rumor mill, but Harry was too happy to care or question what that meant. Dobby – he had a friend that was an elf. Holy wow! – had brought them all dinner, with a special dessert just for Harry. He'd only been ten for a day, according to his friends, but Harry thought Dobby was a brilliant cook. Although he was still confused over actually meeting an elf. Especially one that looked nothing like the ones living in Rivendale or Lothlorian. Harry liked to read. It was easier to deal with being locked up in his cupboard if he had something to occupy his imagination with. "Yes," he managed finally, accepting the napkin from Draco and obediently wiping his face and hands. "I washed it off, but it was sticky and weird."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "What's one of the first things you remembered after waking up, Har Bear?"

"That I was a Slytherin," he answered promptly, blushing when Draco grinned and dropped an arm over his shoulders again. "Actually," he admitted shyly, leaning a little closer to Draco, "I thought I was a snake. But then I remembered."

"In American Indian myth," the girl spoke slowly, giving Harry a penetrating look; "snakes symbolize rebirth. They're respected over the fact that they symbolize the power to shed one's past self and start anew." Hermione bit her lip.

Pansy sighed, flipping her hair and giving Hermione a level look. "You know how Slytherins are portrayed. Ever wonder why? In imagination, vipers hint that everything we most fear – Furies, Gorgons, poisons, the underworld, death – is sacred." She smirked. "In reality, venomous snakes developed venom to paralyze quick moving prey." Pansy gave Hermione an arched look, rubbing her left forearm slowly. "Do you think people want daily reminders that the most venomous snake in recent history is either sacred or deadlier than already feared?"

"Snakes are bad?" Harry looked worried. He'd been told all his life he was bad… would he ever break away from that association?

Draco sighed, tugging Harry closer as he absently began rubbing the back of his neck. "No, Harry, not all snakes are bad. Some are, though." He paused, trying to find a way to phrase his point. "Our password," he said, relieved. "Remember the word Blaise said to open the entrance? Pharmakon?" Harry nodded, blushing as he relaxed against Draco's side. "Well, every negative has a positive. Pharmakon means 'poison.' It also, however, means 'healing drug.' Snakes are lethal, but sacred: they have the power for good." He scowled. "However, in recent years it's been easier to vilify snakes, all snakes, simply because of what they represent." He shook off his dark mood, smiling to ease Harry's nervous expression.

"For snakes, the 'children of earth' were daemonic intermediaries to the underworld," Vince piped up randomly. "What?" he asked, noticing the incredulous looks sent in his direction.

"Nothing," Blaise said laughing. He shook his head, turning to Greg. "Anything you would care to add?" he asked wryly.

Greg shrugged. "Hermes, the divine messenger, had snakes on his staff," he supplied. "He had the power to bring good or bad luck."

Hermione looked impressed. "Where did you learn that?"

Pansy laughed, tossing her napkin at Draco's head. "It's a pureblood thing. Respecting our history, and whatnot." She nodded down to where Harry's eyes were drooping as he cuddled up against Draco's side.

"Does being with us from before still seem like a dream, Harry?" Draco smiled down at the sleepy boy.

"Kind of," Harry yawned, refusing to acknowledge the fact he was once again snuggling with the other boy. "Sometimes I dream about a flying motorcycle," he admitted. The older kids exchanged blank looks of incomprehension. "But you guys seem different."

"Dreams are often reflection of truth," Pansy said quietly. Harry smiled, liking the idea of his friends really being a part of his life.

"We'll write it down for you, Harry," Hermione said. "All we can remember. We'll help you keep it straight in your mind."

"I remember some things better than others," Harry admitted, yawning sleepily.

"Like what?" Hermione asked gently, leaning over Blaise to kiss the top of Harry's head.

The little boy smiled, feeling safe and full and happy. "I remember swimming, and laughing, and…" He trailed off, hugging the last memory to himself.

"And what?" Blaise asked.

Harry opened his eyes and looked up at Draco. He blushed. "And I remember you told me you loved me."

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Since I am poor (see original disclaimer if confused), I need to point out that I did not write "Fawkes" poem. That was an exerpt from the brilliantly talented Midnight Skylark Aberjhani from "A Poet's Birthday Dance Through Fire and Rain"


	12. Snakes Are Slippery

CrazyKat - (blush) Yeah for typos... Ah well, I'll fix it. At least my mistakes are entertaining :)

SilentRetribution - (smirk) Oh, heaven's no... I thrive on cliffies!

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He looked like a Dresden doll.

Harry woke up, looking around him with a disconcerting sense of surrealism. He felt safe, protected, and loved. He didn't remember falling asleep leaning on Draco last night, but there was something infinitely comforting about waking up with the sluggish weight of a strong arm draped around him. Harry turned his head, blushing lightly, smiling shyly, as he studied the features of the boy lying next to him. Draco looked like a Dresden doll, he thought once again; all delicately shaped and lightly colored and smoothly sculpted. Harry had seen a picture of one of the dolls in a magazine someone left at the park once. He'd been young at the time, though, and had paged through the magazine with wide eyed obsession, looking at all the expensive and classy looking items with a feeling of fierce longing. He knew, just knew, that his parents had been the type of people to cherish what was theirs. He knew, just knew, that his parents hadn't been at all like Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Someday he would belong to that world again; where pretty things were lovingly kept and protected. Harry was older now, though; he'd learned; he knew better. Stuff like that would never correlate with his reality. Maybe, if his parents hadn't died in that car crash, his life would be different.

He leaned over carefully, reaching for the leather bound notebook placed on the bedside table closest to him. It was Mione's book. She had dug it out of her book bag last night, smiling as she asked to borrow his multi colored ink jars. All of his friends had started writing in the book. This was Harry's book now; his book to keep forever. Because his friends – he smiled, running a hand lightly over the cover of the book, loving the reality of being claimed by people who didn't want to hurt or yell at him – wanted him to remember everything there was to remember about what was going on. They wanted to eliminate the confusion from his mind. Harry smiled at the book again. He'd never had such a grand present. When the picture slid out, where Draco was tickling him mercilessly, his smile broadened. He really liked Draco. Harry tucked the picture back inside the book carefully, placing the book back on the end table, before turning on his side and examining the boy beside him once again. Harry wondered how long he would be able to keep Draco as his friend. After all, people of Draco's caliber, much like the items in that magazine, did not belong in Harry's world.

Still, he couldn't resist reaching a hand out, tracing the contour of Draco's smooth cheek; an odd mixture of feelings swirling inside him. Something about Draco made him feel silly, made him want to smile and giggle; although it was positively reprehensible for someone his age to giggle. Harry couldn't understand this maddening flutter in his tummy, so he chose not to dwell on it. Savoring, instead, the unfamiliar feeling of being protected and secure; of being liked and having friends. He smiled again, his blush deepening, when sleepy gray eyes opened and blinked at him. "Will we always be friends, Draco?" He hated the fact that his voice sounded so wistful, but he couldn't stop the anxious feeling of terror that he would blink and find himself back in his cupboard; alone and unwanted.

The rush of relief, of happiness, that flooded through him when Draco smiled and shifted his hand to rub the back of Harry's neck nearly shattered his nerves with pleasure. "Course we will, you cheese head," Draco murmured, still half asleep. Draco yawned, turning onto his back to stretch lazily. "Anyone who has seen me first thing in the morning I either keep or torture into madness." He shrugged. "Besides, I only let good friends crawl into bed with me in the middle of the night."

"Technically he didn't crawl," Hermione's sleep roughened voice floated over to them from the direction of Blaise's bed. "He fell asleep on you last night and you threatened to hex anyone who moved him."

Draco flushed. "He deserves to sleep uninterrupted," he said defensively.

"Don't bother, Hermione," Pansy chimed in from Harry's bed. "Draco is still in denial over his feelings of love and possessiveness where Harry is concerned."

Greg sat up in bed, looking around in vague disappointment over the lack of coffee and pastries. "Pansy says we shouldn't pressure him," he told Hermione brightly. "Pansy says that Draco has emotional issues he needs to resolve on his own, and pressuring him will just lead to tension and unresolved anger."

"For the love of… I am neither in denial nor emotionally disturbed!"

Vince nodded in agreement with Greg, sitting up in bed as well and blithely ignoring Draco's heated glare. "Draco's fragile right now," he chimed in seriously. "We have to wait until our Harry is sixteen again before we can knock some sense into him." Across the room, Blaise buried his face in Hermione's hair; shoulders shaking with barely suppressed snickers.

"You and I, Harry," Draco began venomously, "need to procure new friends." He sniffed dismissively, absently rubbing Harry's neck so the boy wouldn't worry over his tone of voice. "I refuse to suffer amongst these delusional idiots any longer."

"Oh come on, Draco," Harry began coaxingly. He forgot himself and giggled, reaching up to play with a strand of blonde hair since Draco didn't seem to mind. "They're my first friends. Can't I keep them?" From somewhere in his mind he remembered a lesson learned, and aimed a persuasive smile towards his favorite snake.

Draco sighed. "Fine. Just stop looking at me like that. It makes me want to give you a cookie, which I find moderately concerning." Harry laughed outright at that, impulsively hugging Draco.

Hermione smiled at her friend. "Go get showered and dressed, Har Bear. Today you are going to meet some other friends of yours."

Harry looked worried. "Who?"

"Don't worry handsome," Pansy yawned. "We're keeping you; they're simply allowed visitation rights." She winked at the boy when the tension in his shoulders eased. "These are just some people who want to get reacquainted with you." Pansy frowned, brow wrinkling in confusion. "Something about playing Football, or something equally undignified."

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"Where'd you learn to run so fast?" Dean Thomas was bent at the waist, hands clasped over his knees, breathing heavily as he gazed at Harry with a mixture of pride and shock. It was halftime, and the rag tag mix of students that had turned the Quidditch pitch into an impromptu Football field were having a blast sliding in the mud and trying to score goals.

"From my cousin Dudley," Harry answered absently, an odd smile briefly flitting across his face.

Dean turned, following the little boys gaze and started grinning despite himself. Draco had flat out refused to play any game that required him to run. Especially in mud. Remus Lupin had stepped in as goalie for the opposing team, Tonks doing a bang up job on defense as she ended up tripping the students trying to get past her and dropping them all into a flailing mass of muddy laughter. Dean, captain of Harry's team, had assigned Draco as left defender under the false hope that the wing position would pick up his slack. After watching Draco stand stock still while watching the ball roll past him, however, Dean had made the executive decision to move Draco to goalie and Harry to defense. Draco had promptly cast an impervious charm on his clothing, a repelling charm on his goal box, and resumed watching the game with an expression of bored indifference. The other team hadn't figured out until right before half time why their well aimed kicks seemed to bounce off the goal posts. Ron was currently… heatedly debating with Draco whether or not using magic while playing a Muggle game constituted cheating.

"Dudley into Football, then?" Dean asked, turning back to Harry with a wry shake of his head.

"We play Football in school sometimes," Harry answered evasively, taking a hesitant half step towards Draco. "Ron's not going to try and hurt him, is he?"

"Nah," Dean shrugged offhandedly. "Look at Draco; he's waiting for Ron to touch him. Ron knows that if so much as a strand of his hair touches Draco he'll find himself on the floor and bleeding in seconds." Harry nodded uncertainly, only relaxing when Greg and Vince materialized out of nowhere to flank Draco. Harry turned, looking around him and catching sight of someone in the sea of onlookers. He smiled. Dean was utterly confused when Harry ran off the field and straight to where Professor Snape was glowering on the sidelines.

"Did Harry just run to Snape?" Seamus sounded horrified as he stopped next to Dean.

"Yeah, he did." They exchanged equally baffled looks. "And he was worried when Ron and Draco started fighting."

"Well, Draco has made their lives miserable the last few years," Ginny contributed as she walked up and handed out cups of water to the two boys.

Dean accepted his water, looking perplexed. "That's the thing," he said slowly. 'He was worried about Draco." The Gryffindors turned as one, mouths dropping in shock as Harry laughed and hugged their most hated professor.

Snape's lips twitched in amusement as Harry disentangled himself from his classmate and ran to his side. "You're filthy," he reprimanded the little boy.

Harry beamed at his teacher. "Did you see me?" He asked excitedly. "I scored a goal! Dean says I am a really good runner."

Black eyes traveled up and down the filthy figure before him. "I saw," he said at last. "You did very well." He couldn't suppress the smile when Harry seemed to fairly glow at the acknowledgement. "I suggest, however, you concentrate on kicking the ball instead of patches of mud."

Green eyes lit up with laughter. "But it's more fun this way!" He frowned suddenly, his troubled gaze flickering back to where Ron was still glaring at an openly smirking Draco. "I don't like it when people yell in a mean way," he said quietly.

The professor looked at the little boy intently for a moment before following his gaze, rolling his eyes at the students in question. "Perhaps you could turn Mr. Weasley into a parrot again," he suggested.

Harry burst out laughing, reaching out to hug his teacher. "I'll score a goal just for you," he promised, before turning with one last wave as Madame Hooch signified the starting of the second half by blowing her whistle. Snape smirked at the slightly horrified expressions fixed upon the Gryffindors faces.

From the sidelines, Pansy and Hermione waved in sync as Harry looked in their direction. They watched, smiling, as Blaise scooped Harry up; spinning in circles before tossing the shrieking boy to Draco. Harry laughed, blushing slightly, flinging his arms around Draco in a quick hug before hurrying into his correct position. "I remember being ten," Pansy commented, sipping from a steaming goblet of spiced cider. "I was desperately in love with a boy named Derek. I was convinced I would grow up, marry him, and have a million of his babies."

"That's sweet," Hermione smiled.

"Yeah," Pansy agreed. She sighed reminiscently. "Then he sent a tripping jinx at me and made questionable comments about my virtue." She shrugged. "I got over my crush, figured out how large of a number a million was, and told my father. Within three months Father had bankrupted his family and they were forced to move to Wiltshire Ranch or some such place." Pansy smiled mistily at the memory.

Hermione blinked at Pansy incredulously. "What a… touching recollection."

"Umm," Pansy agreed, taking another sip of her drink while watching the game unfold. She kept her eyes on Harry, waving as Hermione cheered enthusiastically as he drove the ball up the sideline to score another goal. "Makes me wonder if the two of them would have been quite as passionate in their little temper tantrums, had they been able to recognize their emotions for what they were."

"You see it too?" Hermione sighed. "I figured out Harry was in love with him, but never suspected he may have had a crush on him since the beginning." She smiled at the figures on the field. "Although, it is cute the way Harry blushes around Draco all the time."

Pansy gave Hermione a measuring look. "Harry's a pretty quiet guy; rather introverted with his emotions. Makes me wonder over his reaction when he returns to sixteen."

"Which part?" Hermione questioned glumly, stealing Pansy's cider and taking a drink. "The fact that he spent nearly two weeks fighting to remain with Slytherins? Or, how about the fact that people have become aware of the extent of the neglect he suffered at the hands of his vile relatives? Hmm… then again there's always the fact he turned his best friend into a parrot and spent a week on fire."

"Well," Pansy gave the girl a disapproving look, taking her goblet back and carefully wiping off the rim. "I was talking about the fact that even the clueless Weasley now knows that Draco loves Harry, and Harry loves Draco." She smiled cheekily. "Why must Gryffindors be so melodramatic?"

Hermione smiled sadly, watching Harry laugh as Neville tried to kick the ball, missed, and toppled over into a large puddle of muddy water. Harry went to help the boy, laughing all the harder as he was pulled into the puddle as well. "I think I'm jealous," she said softly." Pansy looked at her quietly. "I've been his friend for six years, yet the first person he feels comfortable enough to initiate contact with at five and ten is Draco." She returned Pansy's look. "It's awful to feel so attached to him after only a week of being his 'Mione,' but it makes me sad that he's not my baby anymore." She bit her lip. "How is our friendship going to change once he's back to sixteen?"

They stood quietly. Pansy reached out and linked her arm through Hermione's, offering her goblet like a peace offering. "We're all worried about how Harry will treat us when he's sixteen." She shrugged, sliding a glance towards where Draco stood, oblivious to the game around him, watching Harry run and laugh with a foolish grin on his face. "I hope Harry realizes his actions will affect more than his own life."

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Monday morning found Harry sitting cross legged on his bed, chatting with Sasha, waiting for his friends to wake up. He'd already showered, dressed, and had Dobby bring a platter with coffee and breakfast pastries. He looked up, startled, when the bedroom door opened and Hermione silently crept in. Before he could so much as offer a hello, Greg, Vince, Draco, and Blaise were all sitting up in bed with their wands out and pointed towards the door. Hermione froze. "Good morning," she offered warily.

"Fuck Granger!" Draco tossed his wand on his bedside table, reaching out instinctively; eyes widening in panic until he saw Harry sitting safe and shocked on his own bed.

"Sorry," she apologized sheepishly, walking over to Harry's bed. She leaned down, kissing the boy on his forehead, delighting when he relaxed and offered a shy smile. "Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus,indeed," Hermione said, breaking off a piece of a flaky croissant. "We should change the school motto to 'never walk unannounced into a room of Slytherins.' What a pleasant welcome you offer."

"Can you blame us, cara mia?" Blaise's eyes slid to the platter at Harry's feet; turning back to aim a pathetic and hopeful look at Hermione. He grinned, shifting over in bed to make room for her, when she rolled her eyes and collected coffee and a pastry and walked over to him.

"Most people know better," Vince added.

Greg shrugged. "Not many people like us, anyways. And Pansy knows how to get in here without waking us up."

"I like you, Greg," Harry said loyally, smiling at the boy.

"How does Pansy get in here without waking you up?" Hermione seemed rather put out that the other girl was better than her at stealth.

"It's a gift," Pansy remarked, walking into the room and heading straight to Harry's bed. She nudged the little boy with her shoulder; sitting down once he scooted over, reaching to fix her coffee the way she liked. Pansy took a deep breath of the aromatic brew appreciatively. "Harry, you're brilliant." She winked at the boy. "I do believe you've ruined us for life. Before we met you, not one of us would ever willingly wake up at this ungodly hour. Now, it's practically routine."

"Happy to help." Harry gave his friend a cheeky grin; laughing as she reached out and tickled him.

Eventually they had to get up properly and prepare for another day of school. Harry thought Monday was probably his favorite day of school. After eating breakfast and letting Professor Snape administer his immunization draughts, Harry got to see his snakes first thing! What could possibly start his day off happier than Double Potions with his best friends? Harry was sitting next to Draco, intently following his instructions on how to properly slice the roots for best results, when there was a knock on the door. Luna Lovegood floated in, looking about her with a dreamily detached expression. "Hello Harry," she greeted pleasantly. "I really like cilantro. Do you ever find yourself with an uncontrollable urge for salsa?"

Harry blinked at the girl. "What's cilantro?"

"A spicy green weed," Professor Snape contributed. He glared at the girl. "What brings you to my dungeons, Miss Lovegood?"

"Professor Dumbledore sent me to fetch Harry. I'm to bring him to his office. Do you have any cilantro?"

"No," he replied icily. "I do not. What does the Headmaster want with my student?"

"I believe he wants to talk to him," she replied vaguely. "But I didn't ask. Cilantro is used in folk medicine to relieve anxiety, you know."

The teacher gave the girl a sharp look, searching for sarcasm in her wide blue eyes. "Yes," he said finally. "As a potions master, I am well versed in the uses of varying herbs." He gestured to Harry, placing a hand on the top of messy hair briefly. "I cannot deny the Headmaster wishing to speak with you," he said reluctantly.

"I'll be ok," Harry smiled. "I won't drink or eat anything from him. I promise." Snape smiled faintly at the boy.

"I'll take him," Draco offered quickly.

"I'll be ok," Harry repeated; thrilled over Draco's protectiveness but not wanting to be a bother. Harry eyed Luna closely as he walked beside her lightly dancing form to the headmaster's office. The girl was swaying as she moved, singing something about sailing away on the Orinoco Flow under her breath. "You have pretty hair," he said shyly.

"From the deep sea of clouds to the island of the moon, carry me on the waves to the lands I've never been…" Luna sang airily. She stopped, turning to Harry. "Thank you. You have such a nice soul. Harry, don't tell anyone I am waiting for you at the base of the staircase."

"OK," Harry said uncertainly; startled by her abrupt shift in conversation. His expression cleared. "So you don't get in trouble for missing class?"

"No," Luna replied, casting an uneasy glance down the hall in the direction of the main doors. "Because I saw a band of Furies by the gates. They're born from blood, you know. And where Furies go, Gorgons are sure to be close as well. I have a lucky charm protecting me," she tapped her necklace. "Do you still have your lucky stone?"

"Right here," Harry answered promptly, removing the pretty stone he'd found in the Hospital Wing from his pocket.

Luna beamed at Harry. "Good! Keep it with you." She smiled into pleased green eyes. "I'll be waiting for you," she repeated. She watched the little form step onto the revolving staircase and disappear, biting her lip to keep from doing something as predictable or inane as wishing him luck. She cast another uneasy look over her shoulder. This morning the pretty flower on the Quidditch pitch she'd seen last week had been dead. Luna was certain a Gorgon had killed it. She leaned against the wall, loving the texture of the aged stones under her palm as she resumed singing. "We can sigh, say goodbye…"

Harry wasn't sure if the open door before him was a good sign or not. Stepping off the gargoyle and into the office, seeing the Headmaster's grim expression, was enough to cause him to freeze in place and fervently wish he had accepted Draco's offer to accompany him. There were three other people besides Dumbledore waiting for him. A thin tendril of dread began swimming in his stomach. Absently reaching up to rub the scar on his head, he couldn't fight the feeling that although he didn't remember them, he had met them before and didn't particularly like them. Harry wondered if he could turn around and run back to Luna.

"We're done here," the portly looking man said to Dumbledore. He turned to Harry, smiling an overly large artificial smile. "Harry Potter! Heard you're having a bit of trouble remembering your surroundings now, aren't you? I," he puffed up his chest, "am Cornelius Fudge. The Minister of Magic. These are two of my Auror's; Kingsley Shacklebolt and John Dawlish." Fudge smiled, sending a bitter look of satisfaction towards Dumbledore. "Your Aunt and Uncle have been very concerned about the recent developments here at Hogwarts, and sent me an owl asking for service." He gave Harry a look of fatherly concern. "Naturally, I was horrified by what you were forced to endure here and hastened to your side." He reached out, not put off in the slightest when Harry took an instinctive step in retreat. "I am taking you home to heal properly with your family."

An odd sort of rushing noise seemed to swirl in Harry's head as he heard the minister speak. This man was taking him away from his snakes; from his friends; from people who liked him and didn't hurt him. This man, Fudge, was taking him back to his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Big green eyes filled with tears, Harry turned to the headmaster. "Oh, please…" he whispered.

Professor Dumbledore sighed, rubbing his temples. "The situation is out of my hands," he admitted quietly. Harry made a strangled sounding noise in the back of his throat. "Harry," the wizened old man continued. "I will not let you remain there long. By tonight, at the latest, I will have you safely back home at Hogwarts. I just need to… I will figure out a way. I promise; on this I will not let you down."

Harry nodded in mute horror, not trusting himself to speak past the constricting lump in his throat. He wanted his snakes. He wanted to feel safe, and loved, and protected. He did not want to be around these people. Harry stared at the floor, not caring in the slightest as Auror Shacklebort and Minister Fudge went up the spiral staircase to sign the necessary forms for Harry's removal. He knew it was rude, but he could not find the energy to lift his head and speak to Auror Dawlish as the man approached him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Harry," the man drawled in a voice that was both smooth and oddly familiar. Harry looked up at the man searchingly; confused when he pulled out a wand and muttered something under his breath. Harry looked around. The portraits, only seconds before glowering and muttering, had gone completely still; an oddly glazed look in their eyes. Harry looked back at the man, green eyes widening as the man pointed the wand at himself and murmured yet again. "A concealment spell," the man answered Harry's unspoken question. "Nobody can see through it unless they know specifically whom they are looking towards." Eyes dropped down to the insignia on Harry's robe. "Corroborating with Slytherins?"

"I like snakes," Harry smiled shyly at the man; taking a half step closer to him. "Draco and Blaise and Pansy and Greg and Vince and Mione are my friends. They take care of me and help me." Green eyes clouded over, dimming, as Harry's shoulders drooped slightly. "Well, they did anyway." He looked up at the man hopefully. "Do you think they'll still like me even if Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon tell them about how disobedient and what a freak I am?"

The man frowned, an odd expression showing briefly in his eyes before they once again became impassive. "Harry; you don't really want to go to your familial home, do you?"

"No! I don't like it there at all. They don't like me. I don't know why they care that I was hurt."

"Would you like to come with me somewhere, instead?" He smiled at the cautious and curious way Harry examined him. "Someplace with a large pretty snake who only has one other person to talk to? Nagini gets lonely without stimulation."

"That's a pretty name." Harry bit his lip, eyes flickering over the newly exposed cane with a silver snake head the man carried. "That's nice." He frowned, remembering a conversation with his snakes. "Are you a divine messenger?"

"Naturally." The man arched his eyebrow, looking terribly amused by Harry's question.

The sound of slightly raised voices floated down the staircase. Harry bit his lip again. "I don't think Professor Dumbledore will let me, though."

"That's the thing, Harry. If Dumbledore knew I was here, he would make me go back to… my other family. I do not wish to experience that again." He leaned forward, clasping his hand on Harry's shoulder again, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "I won't tell him I won't be taking you to your relatives, if you won't tell him I am here."

Harry squirmed in place; looking between the glazed portraits, the staircase, and the face of the man before him. The voices were getting closer, the men coming back down the stairs. "Deal," he whispered. The man smiled, a look of satisfaction on his face.

"Ready Harry?" Fudge sounded eager to be off.

"Tonight, Harry," Dumbledore promised; reaching out and pulling the little boy into a reassuring hug. Harry nodded, standing close to the man disguised as Dawlish as they left the office.

At the bottom of the staircase Harry saw Luna waiting. "Just a second," he told the men. He ran to Luna's side, stretching on tiptoes to whisper in her ears. The girl nodded, kissed Harry's forehead, murmured something to Harry, and waved to Minister Fudge. Harry walked quickly back over to his entourage. "I told her to tell my snakes I had to leave," he explained.

The walk to the front gates was quiet and uncomfortable. Fudge felt satisfaction for finally getting his own against Dumbledore after the public humiliation of last year; Shacklebolt felt guilty as hell, remembering the house he had rescued Harry from last year, and the comments Harry had made over the letter Lupin had left his relatives. Harry felt conflicted. On one hand, he really really wanted to stay with his snakes; on the other hand, he was grateful that the man was not leaving him with his stupid relatives and taking him somewhere new and interesting. Anywhere was better than the Dursley's.

"How should we do this?" Fudge seemed stumped as to who should hold onto whom for the apparition to Privet Drive.

"I'll take him."

"Yes, Dawlish, that will be grand. Shacklebolt, you remember the coordinates? Off we go then!'

The man winked at Harry, pulling out a gold locket from his robes. "Hold tight to me," he said, holding out his hand. Harry smiled, clasping their hands firmly together. This was going to be a great adventure! The man pressed a button on locket, whispering "bruixeria." Harry felt a weird pull just below his navel, and then the gates of Hogwarts disappeared.

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At Number 4 Privet Drive, Tonks, Lupin, and the Weasley twins were waiting on the doorstep. Tonks rolled her eyes, knocking again, adding a loud "Hello!" for good measure.

Petunia Dursley flung open the door, looking fearfully about. "I told you," she hissed. "Harry's at school, he's not here! Freaks like you are not welcome. Go away before the neighbors see!"

George's eyes narrowed briefly before his face broke into a wide smile. "Chocolate?" he offered innocently.

Lupin reached out, lowering George's hand as he smiled kindly at the visibly cringing woman before him. "Yes," he agreed, "but you sent a letter of concern to the ministry over Harry's development and requested him home." He spoke firmly. "We will not leave until we have seen him."

Petunia looked at Lupin like he had single-handedly reaffirmed her belief over the stupidity of freaks like Harry. "The boy's not here! Why would I care if that crackpot headmaster hurt him? If Harry was hurt at school, than the school is responsible for paying for his injuries." Tonks glared, turning her hair neon blue just to be spiteful.

"Wait," Fred said suspiciously. "You didn't write a letter demanding Harry leave Hogwarts?"

"Ssh!" she hissed vehemently, cringing at the name of the school. "Why would I want him home? Ten months isn't long enough to keep him away, if you ask me. Now go away. Quick!" She slammed the door in their faces; the click of a dead bolt obvious in the sudden silence.

"Something is very wrong her," Lupin spoke hoarsely, looking sick to his stomach.

Two loud cracks rent the air, announcing the arrival of Fudge and Shacklebolt. The Order members dove out of sight behind the bushes, quickly disillusioning themselves. "That went well," Fudge announced brightly. He looked around impatiently. "Where'd Dawlish and Harry get off to?"

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At Hogwarts, Luna walked sedately to the dungeons. She had tried to intercept Dumbledore as he left his office, but the headmaster had simply patted her head; distracted on his mission to inform McGonagall he would be leaving the school to meet up with the Order members he had already sent to Privet Drive. It was imperative no harm come to Harry while he was young and vulnerable. He didn't have time to talk to Luna right now.

Professor Snape glared when Luna reappeared without Harry in tow. "Is the headmaster still talking with our young Mr. Potter?"

"No," Luna sighed unhappily. She sniffed the air. "Cilantro would be quite useful right about now."

The teacher gave the girl a dark look. "And why, pray tell, is that?"

"Because," Luna answered; shrugging as though her explanation answered all the unknown questions of the universe. She wandered over to where Draco was regarding her with suspicion.

"Loony," the blonde greeted her, gray eyes dark and swirling with suspicion. "Where is my Harry?" The girl looked up, placing a gentle hand on Draco's shoulder. She spoke simply.

"With your father."

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Harry and the man touched down outside somewhere. Harry looked around with a shiver. "It's not very friendly looking here," he commented uneasily. He shivered again, feeling lightheaded as a strong sense of déjà vu swept over him. "Do you think Draco will come here?" He was too busy fighting the butterflies in his tummy to care about the hopeful tone in his voice.

Lucius Malfoy smiled. "Undoubtedly."

Harry nodded, reassured, following the man who looked so much like his best friend up to the doors of the manor. "I like Draco," he confided. "He's my friend."

The smile was calculating this time. "He likes you as well," he stated confidently, not really caring if the fact was accurate or not. It helped Harry relax and that was all that mattered. It was important to keep the boy occupied until the Dark Lord could be informed of the success of his mission.

They reached the house, Lucius moving unerringly to the awaiting room. He opened the door, stepping aside to allow Harry entrance. "I did promise you a large snake, didn't I?"

Green eyes went impossibly wide at the sight before him. Harry grinned. "Wicked," he breathed out, eyes fixed on the snake curled up on a throne-like chair.

He never saw Lucius smirk, nor heard the click as the door swung shut and locked.

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Ravenclaw moment #4: Explain the symbolism in Lucius' password...


	13. How Do You Measure A Man?

Looooooong A/N. Sorry

1. SO sorry for the long delay. My aunt was admitted to ICU last week and my muse has been busy attempting to distract my birth mother from reality. She had surgery last night, and these next 48 hours will be pivotal. So, if anyone gets bored or feels like startling random people, feel free to cross your fingers and whisper "Be Pivotal Aunt Cin."

2. I have most of the next two chapters written, so the delay in posting should not be as long anymore.

3. I got a PM criticizing my writing style. It amused me, and I did respond, but in case anyone feels the same way… Yes, I am aware that my writing is not always structurally or grammatically accurate. However, please bear in mind that Harry is now only ten, and his friends are teenagers. As fondly as I recall my time as a wayward teen, I do not recollect pausing before speaking to wonder, "hmm… should I start a sentence with 'but' or 'and'?" Also, the lack of commas in Harry's speech as a child was deliberate. Kids tend to speak their mind, in a rushed or rambling fashion, without always pausing for breath. Harry is no exception. And as superior as the Slytherins are, even they feel they can relax their guard around people they trust, and occasionally take breaks from their social grooming. Hope that clarifies.

4. I leave just a few things unanswered in this chap, but, like I said, I have most of the next two written and the information just fit in there better.

5. Thanks SO MUCH to all reviewers. I am blowing you all electronic kisses!

Loves,

Roo

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"What kind of name is Nagini, anyways?"

Lucius looked into the curious face and smirked. "A female naga is called Nagini."

Harry's brow crinkled in confusion. "A what?"

"Really," he drawled out sarcastically. "What are they teaching in that school these days?" Lucius forced himself to concentrate on the conversation at hand and not fidget at the Dark Lord's continued absence. "No matter what you do in life, Harry, it is very important to understand and appreciate ones history." He waited until the small head nodded acquiescence before continuing. "A naga is a race of supernatural beings, usually depicted with both snake and human attributes."

Harry looked thoughtful, petting Nagini as he mulled this information over. "Supernatural? Like witches and wizards and dragons and castles and stuff?" Lucius inclined his head in agreement. "So, basically, Nagini is smarter than that Voldemort person because she can think like a snake and a person? Is that why he keeps her alone? So people don't realize she's smarter than them and take her away? Or is he trying to become smart like Nagini is?"

Lucius Malfoy hated to find himself at a disadvantage. One would think interrogating a ten year old boy, even one as annoying as Harry Potter had proven himself to be time and time again, would be a simple matter of persuasion and coercion. However, sitting here, talking with young Mr. Potter, while Nagini curled around the boy possessively, Lucius could not stop thinking the Dark Lord had severely underestimated the brat. The boy was much more Slytherin than possibly his own son. "Whether one accumulates wisdom and virtue slowly over the ages," he said calmly, "or whether one does it in one spontaneous act makes no difference. The Dark Lord keeps Nagini isolated because, yourself excluded, no one else can understand her. People fear her."

The little boy frowned; unhappy with the information his friend was feared. "That's stupid," he decided. "Mione says that allowing fear to dictate your actions makes you forget who you really are." Harry smiled down at the beautiful snake in his lap. "Nagini is a heroine," he decided firmly. "She hasn't lost herself to fear or darkness and is stronger than that Voldemort guy." Harry frowned, his voice turning fierce. "He better be nice to Nagini; it's not ok to hurt people just because you want them to obey. If he hurts her, I'm taking her home with me."

Gray eyes, so much like Draco's, stared at the child whispering reassurances to the snake. How could a boy, a child who claimed to have no knowledge of the Dark Lord and thought his parents had died in a car crash, shake the very foundations of Lucius' beliefs with one casually offered sentence? What would happen if Harry were to win this war and the Dark Lord fell? Malfoy's had relied upon their resilience and cunning for years. Falling from grace was not a viable option worth considering.

"Can I, Mr. Malfoy?"

Lucius snapped his head around, looking into bright green eyes as Harry smiled up at him. The boy was sprawled across the floor, stroking Nagini's belly, while the snake looked at his young master with an expression frighteningly similar to adoration. They were still ensconced in the Throne Room at Riddle Manor, awaiting the Dark Lord. Lost in thought, Lucius hadn't even been aware Harry was speaking to him. "I believe, Mr. Potter," he drawled out arrogantly in an attempt to save face, "proper grammar dictates the word 'may' in exchange of 'can.' Do try and speak coherently."

Harry blushed crimson, his bright smile fading slightly. Lucius assured himself he did not feel the slightest twinge of remorse over this. "Sorry, Mr. Malfoy," Harry muttered, looking down at his lap. Nagini butted her head soothingly against the boys arm. Harry took a deep breath, smiling gratefully at the snake before turning back to the blond. "Nagini and I are hungry. May I get us something to eat?"

He was suddenly inundated with a memory of his own son, his Draco, looking up at him with a hopeful expression after chastisement over behavior and etiquette. Why, oh why, did Harry have to look so very young and eager to please? This would have been so much easier had the boy been his proper age; roughened and brittle after continuous overexposure to the harsh realities of the world. That damnable emotion he was certain was not contrition whispered through him again. He smiled at the boy kindly, relieved when Harry brightened again and smiled back. Best to keep the boy happy, after all, until… well, best to keep him happy for now. "I will get you something to eat, Harry." He rose in one graceful motion, instinctively gripping his snake headed cane as he strode to the door. Pausing briefly, he looked over his shoulder as Harry scrambled off the floor and into an awaiting chair. "The door will be locked behind me. I won't be but a moment."

Harry opened his mouth to ask why the door would be locked, but the lock had already clicked into place. He frowned, thinking of his conversations with his snakes. "I was sure Draco said to use 'can' instead of 'may' when asking for permission. That it was rude not to appear humble and presume consent in someone else's home unless you were dictating to your minions or people too plebian to know the difference." He shrugged, resuming his absent petting of his newest snake. "Oh well. Mr. Malfoy is Draco's dad. He would know best." He bit his lip, looking towards the closed door. Harry blushed again, resuming his absent petting. "It's too bad you won't get to meet my Draco. He's wonderful." Green eyes clouded over as Harry's hand rose on its own accord to press against the lightning shaped scar on his forehead. Harry whimpered. "Ow! Oh Nagini, my head hurts!"

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On one hand, Draco had to reluctantly admit he was impressed by the speed of the students.

On the other hand, he had to worry about the fact that his coping mechanism for stress constituted a litany of dark curses.

As Draco ran down the hall with the other Gryffindor and Slytherin students, he ruefully admitted that bellowing with rage and casting spells just this side of legal was probably not the wisest course of action he could have partaken when surrounded by explosive and highly volatile chemicals in the potions lab. Really; had Harry's little accident taught him nothing? Ah well. At least, as Luna had breathlessly commented before Neville grabbed her hand and forcibly pulled her from the room, the resulting explosion was rather pretty. As the majority of the students stopped, panting from exertion, before trickling into the Dining Hall, Draco continued running right on out the front doors of the school. He didn't stop running, in fact, until he was grabbed from behind and forcibly spun around.

"Well," Pansy huffed out, "as far as presentation goes, that was passable." She pressed her hand flat against her chest, trying to control her breathing after the mad dash from the dungeons. "I would definitely give you an 'O' for diversionary tactics, though."

"Diversionary tactics?" Hermione gasped out.

Vince took a deep breath. "Are we going to get our Harry now, Draco?"

Draco nodded, thinking quickly. Greg looked around, confused. "Shouldn't we find Professor Snape?"

"He'll undoubtedly head this way momentarily."

Hermione nodded, a determined expression tightening her face. "How are we going to get him?"

Draco exchanged a meaningful glance with Pansy and Blaise. "WE aren't."

"What?"

"Draco and Pansy are going to go get Harry," Luna's voice, floating in the air behind them, caused the students to jump in surprise. Luna smiled dreamily at them, moving forward to link arms with Greg and Hermione. "We're going to go have a cup of tea and wait." She tilted her head in contemplation. "I hope there's peppermint tea. I do so enjoy it. So soothing."

Blaise blinked at the blonde. "Where the fuck did you come from?"

"Oh," Hermione growled in frustration. "That's not important! What matters is how Lucius Malfoy got into Hogwarts in the first place. How could Dumbledore let this happen?"

"Dumbledore is being seduced by the Rotfang conspiracy," Luna said sadly. She seemed largely unperturbed by the looks of disdain she was receiving. "And Lucius was wearing a glamour. Nobody could see him unless they knew who to look for." She shrugged, reaching up to play with the necklace she wore. "Harry told me to tell his snakes he wouldn't be going to his relatives. After that, it was easy to see through the disguise."

Pansy's mouth dropped open. "And you just let them leave!"

"Lucius Malfoy IS a member of the Rotfang conspiracy. I wasn't adequately prepared to fight with him without Bobotuber Puss and toothpaste," she said seriously. Luna smiled at the students around her. "I'm so glad you're not at all like your father's."

"You really think I'm not like my dad?" Greg looked hopeful.

"Of course not." Luna patted Greg on the arm, smiling brightly. "You don't even have the faintest hint of gum disease."

"Wait a minute." Hermione had just cottoned on to the fact it was a preconceived notion she would not be accompanying Draco and Pansy on their rescue mission. "What do you mean WE aren't going to rescue Harry? Do you really think you can keep me in this castle? I'm going to find my Har Bear!"

Draco smirked, nodding to Blaise. "Course you are."

"What's that supposed to mean, you son of a" Blaise grabbed her elbow "bitch!" Hermione stopped, looking around, blinking in confusion. They were no longer by the front gates of Hogwarts. Through the windows of the room she was in, Hermione could make out sprawling grounds and an elaborate garden. She looked around the room she was in, noting the welcoming atmosphere. "Where the hell are we?"

"Oh good!" Luna chortled happily. "They do have peppermint tea!"

"Can you make biscuits too?" Vince and Greg settled at the table, hopeful expressions on their faces as they watched their new friend putter around the kitchen.

Hermione smiled politely and nodded in acceptance as Luna laid out cups. She turned to Blaise, her smile turning sharp and nasty. "Blaise," she purred so sweetly the Italian paled and took a cautious half step away. "You have thirty seconds to tell me precisely where we are, or I will be forced to kick your scrotum so far up your ass it will seriously reduce the likelihood of you ever spawning offspring."

Greg smiled proudly at the girl. "You sound just like Pansy, Hermione!"

Pansy and Draco stared at the spots the students had recently vanished from. "If I were Hermione," Pansy announced, tossing her hair and smoothing her robes while keeping a comforting hold on Draco's arm, "I would be ready to castrate Blaise." She frowned. "Why did Luna go with them?"

Draco shrugged. "Who knows why Luna does anything." He frowned; reaching up to absently rub his forehead like Harry was prone to while thinking deeply. "If Snape refuses to take us, then we should start by finding Mother. Perhaps Mother will be able to help us."

Pansy gave Draco a nasty look. "And tell her what, exactly? Pansy and I were bored at school and decided to pledge allegiance to the Dark Lord early. Do you happen to know where Father is?"

"If we promise to deflect to Harry Potter's side today, could you tell us where Uncle Luc is?" He mimed Pansy smiling winningly at Narcissa.

"Perhaps you would like to tell me about your new attitudes towards young Mr. Potter." Pansy countered in a perfect imitation of Narcissa; watching the expressions chase across Draco's face. "Had you not alerted the press to your involvement with young Harry, your father would not have been sent to spy on his condition." She smirked, slipping out of character. "Though anyone with half a brain would know they only need ask you for a full detail on Harry's lifestyle."

"Why does everybody fuc…"

"Pretend conversation, Draco," Pansy reminded him sweetly. Her smile turned troubled as she looked around. "We're not going to get anywhere but caught so long as we remain standing here."

Draco sighed, crossing his arms over his chest with a frown. "Why can't ideas of grandeur be as simple in practice as they are in theory?" He paced silently for a minute, coming to terms with the image in his mind. "We'll go to the other side of the Manor, wheedle the information out of Mother, and go find Harry. If all else fails, our names will ensure us admittance."

Pansy smiled weakly. "Nobody would dare tell the next generation of Death Eaters no."

A shout from the direction of the school drew their attention to the figure of Severus Snape running full out towards them. "Shit." Draco decided. "This can't be good."

"My mark burned," Severus remarked tersely; unsurprised to find Draco and Pansy waiting for him by the gates. "The Dark Lord has been informed that Harry has been removed from Hogwarts. Are both of you quite prepared for the reality of this trip?" He glared at the students. "The folly of youth does not adequately prepare one for the suffocating darkness as His command."

"We're going with you." Draco's voice was flat. Pansy squared her shoulders, raising her chin stubbornly.

"Very well," Snape said coldly. "There is no time to argue." Severus reached out, grabbing the arms of the students tight enough to make them wince. Without another word, he spun on the spot; the trio disappearing from sight seconds before Lupin, Tonks, and the Weasley twins apparrated at the gates and dashed towards the front doors.

Draco grit his teeth; fighting off the hysteria brought on by the claustrophobia of apparition. When it stopped, so suddenly, Draco had a fleeting impression of a dark cavernous room before he felt a small body grip him in a tight hug. "Draco!"

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Lucius had a very bad feeling about this.

He kept his expression blank and calm, his thought buried behind a figurative cement wall in his mind. Whatever trepidation or unease, dare he say regret, he experienced was best blocked and buried from the Dark Lord. The faintest hint of doubt or hesitancy would make his life forfeit. He knew this, he accepted this, yet his steps still paused for a fraction of a second when he entered the room where he had left Harry and saw his son, the Parkinson girl, and Severus Snape clustered together with Nagini curled up at Harry's ankles. He raised his eyebrows, meeting the black eyes of his long time friend as he spoke to the little boy. "Harry," he said smoothly, "I apologize, but I was unable to arrange for provisions. I have, however," he hesitated for the merest sliver of time, eyes flickering towards his son, "brought someone most eager to speak with you." He stepped aside, closing his eyes as the darkly shrouded figure glided into the room.

Lord Voldemort smiled coldly at the sight of the group before him. "How domestic," he drawled, amused at the way Severus gave an involuntary jerk in response to the sound of his voice. He watched with shuttered eyes as Draco sat down defiantly in one of the chairs, pulling a blushing child onto his lap as the teenage girl sat in the seat next to her friend. He glided over to settle in his throne. "Appalling lack of manners you taught your son, Lucius." He tutted briefly, enjoying the way the teenagers stiffened as the whispering of cloth that represented the arrival of his Death Eaters. "We will have to address the issue after today." Lucius stiffened slightly. "Severus?"

Black hair dipped in acknowledgement. "My Lord?"

"Why is it you did not tell me of young Harry Potter's weakness?" Voldemort spoke softly, having learned that presenting a calm façade made others fear for times when control slipped. "I was forced to send another spy into the school. One who only managed to inform me of an incident in the Hospital Wing before he mysteriously vanished." He watched an odd gleam appear in the Potions Master's eyes. His own eyes narrowed in response, though his tone remained silky. "I understand the territorial desire to keep others away from your place of employment, but really, Severus? Attacking a fellow Death Eater?"

"I attacked no one," Snape replied coldly. His eyes gleamed again. "Perhaps he defecated to the side of the light? One last hurrah in memory of his dearly departed friends?"

Crimson eyes flashed in anger. He tightened his jaw, reigning in his temper as he met curious green eyes watching him from the safe haven of Draco's arms. He smiled, delighting when both Severus and Lucius tensed in anticipation. "Mr. Potter, forgive my rudeness in ignoring you." His eyes flickered to the snake curling up the boys legs. "I see you have met my Nagini."

Harry frowned, reaching out to absently pet the snake curling up around him. "I like Nagini. She's my friend." He frowned at the odd looking man sitting in the throne. "You should be nicer to her. It's not ok to hurt people to get them to do what you want. You need to ask. And say please. And be nice. It's the Golden Rule."

Voldemort raised his eyebrows. "The Golden Rule?" he questioned in an odd voice.

Harry nodded earnestly. "I learned it in school. You are supposed to treat others the way you want to be treated. It's the nice thing to do." He turned his head, smiling shyly at Draco and Pansy. "It's how I got friends." He turned back to the man on the throne. "You have to be nice to your friends," he explained.

"I don't have friends," Voldemort said coldly. "I have followers. You should have learned by now, Harry Potter, that emotions are weaknesses not to be tolerated." His smile was sharp enough to cut glass. "Indulging in emotions is how you got your friend," he spat the word, "Sirius Black, killed just three months ago, is it not?" His smirk grew when Severus and Draco stiffened. "Come here, Nagini."

Harry was confused. He patted Nagini soothingly and reluctantly let her slide off his lap. He bit his lip, brow furrowed, as he thought over what the man had said. He didn't know who Sirius Black was, but he figured out his friends did by the way Professor Snape, Draco, and Pansy had gone tense and still at the mention of his name. Almost as though they were worried over how Harry would react. But that couldn't be right; he didn't know who Sirius was. Maybe… maybe Sirius was a friend of Draco and his teacher's and they were upset that this man had hurt someone they cared about? That had to be it. Suddenly angry, Harry raised his chin and glared at the man before him. "Back off," he said sternly. "My friends did nothing wrong. It's mean to deliberately say things that will hurt their feelings."

The man's eyes narrowed. "I said," he repeated in an angrier tone of voice, "it is your fault that Sirius Black died. You gave me the tools needed to kill him"

Nagini hissed angrily at Voldemort's side, displeased by the emotions swirling about. Harry didn't like the way the man's hand tightened around Nagini's smooth scales. "Congratulations?" he offered; throwing in a smile as he felt Draco notably relax at his side. Harry's smile widened when Draco absently reached up and began rubbing the back of his neck. Draco was pleased with him; he must be behaving like a Slytherin!

Voldemort was radiating fury now. It was imperative the boy lose his temper, his control, in front of him and his followers so all could witness his most satisfying defeat. But the brat seemed content to sit with Draco, holding hands with the young Parkinson disappointment and smiling at his own snake, Nagini. Although… the boy was a shining example of Gryffindor stupidity… perhaps playing on his disgustingly misguided emotions was the way. "You hurt me last year," he said finally, watching Harry closely. "In the Ministry, while I… possessed… you. I felt unchecked levels of agony." Harry looked confused for a minute, before shrugging dismissively and leaning back further against Draco. "Don't you care that you knowingly and intentionally caused someone pain?"

There was something about this man… something about his arrogant certainty that he was right and Harry was perpetually wrong, that reminded him of his Uncle Vernon. "I don't have to apologize to you for that," Harry said in a perfect imitation of Draco's bored drawl. "I'm better than that. It's not my fault you were hurt for trying to hurt and control me."

Unnaturally pale fingers clenched around Nagini's scales, eliciting a sharp hiss of pain; though the snake knew better than to attempt to escape or move away. Voldemort smirked, feeling the balance of control shift in his favor once again when he saw Harry's eyes flicker to the snake in concern. He withdrew his wand, almost trembling in anticipation as he flicked his wand lightly at Nagini. The snake had betrayed him, after all, by cuddling with the impudent brat in the first place. "Where's your wand, Harry?" he asked mildly.

Harry's forehead crinkled in confusion, his attention firmly centered on the trembling snake in front of him. "My what?"

"Your wand," the Dark lord said tightly, gesturing with his own. He hated repeating himself.

Harry shrugged. "I don't have one. Mione said it wasn't safe to play with until I knew how to control my magic." He sighed, frustrated. "I tried to tell her I can't do magic, but she didn't believe me." Draco froze; dread spilling like ice through his veins. Hermione had taken Harry's wand away when he was still a frightened five year old and had yet to return it. Horrified, Draco met the Dark Lord's eyes, watching as an expression of deep satisfaction spread across the monster's face. Draco shut his eyes, heart pumping furiously, and started to pray.

"Pity," Voldemort drawled, flicking his wand once again at Nagini.

Harry balled his hands into fists, pressing them tightly against his thighs, ignoring the slight sting of pain as he leapt to his feet. "Be nice to my friend!"

Crimson eyes glittered with cold satisfaction. "Make me."

Harry was angry. He'd had to miss his favorite day of school, his scar hurt, his Draco and Pansy were scared, Professor Snape was angry, and this man – the man so much like his Uncle Vernon – was hurting his newest friend. And Nagini hadn't even done anything! He needed… a distraction. Yes! A distraction! Just like Dean taught him while playing Football – he needed to feint to the left and go right. He needed to get the man away from Nagini and then he could go help her! But how...this man could do magic like his friends. Unconsciously he pressed his hands harder against his thighs, wincing as the slight pain in his thigh intensified. Of course! Without a second thought, Harry plunged his hand in his pocket, pulled out his lucky rock, and threw it as hard as he could at the wall over the weird man's head.

Voldemort saw the rock and laughed. This was how the Boy-Who-Lived was planning on stopping him from hurting Nagini? Oh that was just too much. His laughter choked off, eyes widening almost comically, as the rock thrown from the unskilled hands of an indignant ten year old flew into his mouth and lodged itself firmly into his esophagus. His wand clattered to the ground, hands scratching desperately at his throat as breathing became a serious issue.

Harry didn't see the rock slide down the man's throat. As soon as the rock left his hand he shrugged off Draco's restraining hands and rushed to Nagini's side. Hissing soothingly to the beautiful snake, he let her curl around his body as he hurried away from the man on the floor. "Time to go," Snape announced, picking the boy and the snake up in one smooth. Draco, Pansy, and Lucius instantly grabbed onto Snape. Lucius looked over his shoulder as the door to the room burst open, smirking as Dumbledore and several Auror's spilled into the room. He offered a sardonic wave before Draco spun on the spot and the group vanished from sight.

Green eyes peered worriedly around. "Shouldn't we go back and make sure he's ok?"

"No!" The cry was unanimous. Draco tore his anxious gaze away from Harry to glare at his father. "I can't believe you were going to sell Harry out to the Dark Lord," he hissed.

Harry rolled his eyes at Draco. "He wasn't going to hurt me, Draco!" He didn't understand the looks on his friend's faces so he ignored them, pointing instead to the snake headed staff Lucius carried. "He's a divine messenger, Draco. Just like Greg said." He looked up, smiling at his best friend's dad. "Can we… er… May we have something to eat now?"

"Of course," Lucius gestured grandly toward the house before him. "And may I be the first to welcome you to Malfoy Manor." He shared a significant look with Severus before turning to his still scowling son. "Malfoy's always wind up on the top," he said smoothly. "Give me a day to iron out the details, and even my abrupt departure from Azkaban will seem a calculated endeavor to ensure Harry's safety."

"I'm, ok, Draco," Harry said earnestly, still holding on tight to Professor Snape. "Your dad protected me from the Dursley's."

"Yes," Draco began hotly, "but he took you straight to…"

Pansy cut him off. "Whatever you come up with, we should all agree on to eliminate holes. And be sure to add the McGregor's to your story somehow. I have a deal with his daughters."

Lucius distractedly opened the door, looking thoughtful. "Yes, he was in a cell near mine…"

"GET AWAY FROM MY HAR BEAR! STUPIFY!"

Snape looked dispassionately down at the figure on the floor. "Miss Granger, I understand you were raised by Muggles, but I was under the impression that even they did not see fit to render their hosts unconscious." He stepped over Lucius, setting Harry gently down, before turning to the stove to set the kettle on for tea. It was going to be a long day.

Harry beamed at his friends, scrambling into Draco's lap again the minute he sat down. "Look Mione!" he said happily, "this is Nagini!" He turned his sparkling green eyes on Draco, resting his head on the blonds shoulder as he aimed his most persuasive smile. "Can I keep her, Draco?"


	14. Displaced

"There are quite a few inconsistencies in the stories."

Cornelius Fudge closed his eyes, biting back his scream of frustration, as he slowly counted to ten. He opened his eyes, meeting Dumbledore's grim blue eyes before hastily looking away. His world was in chaos and he did not like it. Harry Potter, the boy he had signed out of school and into his personal care, had not only vanished from his sight but somehow managed to vanquish Voldemort in the process. To top it all off, he was being forced to work closely with Albus Dumbledore in exchange for the Headmaster promising to convince Harry's relatives to say they never requested the boy home in the first place. Fudge was quite certain he could have manipulated the situation on his own, were it not for the fact that Petunia Dursley had slammed the door in his face once he'd introduced himself as the one charged to bring her precious nephew safely home. Well, that, and the fact that he didn't have the faintest fucking clue where the boy had disappeared to. Sometimes, he really hated his life.

"Minister?"

"I heard you, Shacklebolt." He opened his eyes wearily, looking around the dilapidated room with something akin to despair. He sighed. Deeply. "What seems to be the most consistent report?"

"I interviewed seven different Death Eaters, and have come to the resulting conclusion that Sev… Malfoy was assisting Harry in some way. Potter was brought here, interviewed by the Dark Lord, and somehow managed to kill him without once referencing his wand." Kingsley gestured to his partner.

"Err…" Nymphadora Tonks bit her lip, exchanging glances with Kingsley Shacklebolt. Honestly, sometimes it seemed as though the two were not one hundred percent loyal to the Ministry. "Well," she continued uncertainly, "according to Bellatrix Lestrange, Harry Potter is either a demon of immense proportion or morphed into a demon of immense proportion." Tonks looked up from her notes, offering a weak smile. "She was rather hysterical during the interview. Then… well, Harry either used his demon powers to conjure a mythical instrument of death to murder her beloved, or he carried an artifact with an immensely dark spell upon his person and used that to suck out You-Know-Who's soul." Fudge closed his eyes, rubbing his temple wearily.

"According to Goyle, Sr," Auror Stevenson piped up, "Harry used the Imperius curse to persuade Severus Snape, Lucius and Draco Malfoy, and Pansy Parkinson to give him control of their powers while he turned the Dark Lord's familiar against him. Then he stole the snake, laughed maniacally, and disappeared with his entourage."

"And according to," the young Auror paused, shifting through his notes with an irritated expression, "well, his name isn't documented. Anyways, according to one of the Death Eaters, Harry came here with Lucius Malfoy with the intent to commit nefarious purposes. Then he poisoned the Dark Lord and took the snake."

"And according to MacNair and Nott," George piped up helpfully, "they have been loyal to Harry all along and were only acting negatively to protect their families. They would also like to point out that Malfoy is a two-faced slimy bastard who should have died in Azkaban. Oh, and apparently Draco held Harry close and told him what to do to off the bastard."

"Thank you, Weatherby," Fudge muttered absently. "I didn't know you came from the office?" He sighed again, looking around in bewilderment before turning to Dumbledore with a helpless look.

A slight whisper from Shacklebolt drew Minister Fudge's attention briefly, before the most wonderfully warm feeling settled over him. "A commendable job, Cornelius!" Blue eyes twinkled brightly at his Order members. "You allowed Harry the time to kill Voldemort, and arrived in time to prevent the majority of the known Death Eaters from escaping. Naturally, Harry could not be brought forth for questioning, as he needed to be taken to a safe place, but he will give an interview once he has recovered from this emotionally trying ordeal."

"Thank you Minister!" Fred smiled brightly, catching on quickly, seizing the minister's hand and shaking it enthusiastically. "I feel safe to be your citizen. Perhaps you should go discuss this with the press now and leave your Auror's in charge of cleaning up this mess."

"I…yes, yes of course." Fudge wandered towards the door, looking rather lost and confused. He waved his hand vaguely over his shoulder. "Carry on, Shacklebolt."

Remus Lupin passed the minister at the door with a polite nod before walking directly to Dumbledore and the other Order members. "They're not at Hogwarts," he said quietly. "And you were right to have me check that Draco Malfoy was gone as well," he said grimly. "There appears to be a few students missing, including Hermione Granger." He shuddered, calming himself, before continuing. "Mrs. Figg says there's been no further activity at Privet Drive, and Snape didn't take him to headquarters, either." His brow crinkled with concern as he glanced around the room. "I don't know where Harry is," he admitted hoarsely. Tonks patted his shoulder soothingly, changing her hair to a calming shade of blue green.

"Everything will be quite all right, Remus," Dumbledore spoke calmly and soothingly. "Kingsley, perhaps the repercussions of age have affected me, but I believe you started to say Severus has something to do with Harry's current displacement?"

"Yes, sir," the tall man nodded. "Most reports state the Severus was the one holding Harry when the group we saw upon entering disappeared." He winced, looking over as Bellatrix gave a long hysterical wail over the body of Voldemort. "It's going to take awhile to clean up the mess."

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Mr. Weasley," he began at length, "I would appreciate it if you and your brother would return to Hogwarts. Reassure Minerva the situation will be resolved shortly, inform her of the glorious news, and wait there for further contact." The twins nodded, wicked smiles lighting their faces at the thought of returning unsupervised to their old stomping ground. "Remus, perhaps you and my dear Tonks would accompany me on a trip to Malfoy Manor?"

Remus paled, his pupil's dilating as varying emotions conflicted within him. "Professor… surely you don't believe that Death Eater took him? Do you?" He silently begged the older man to tell him no.

Blue eyes twinkled merrily in return. "As with any stressful event, accountings of truth and imagery are matters of opinion and perspective." He smiled brightly. "One such event that appears consistent is that both Malfoy's and the young Miss Parkinson were, at some point, present in this room. As Draco has not been returned by his father to school, one must assume that he was escorted home." Dumbledore's smile widened. "I feel safe in presuming young Mr. Malfoy would be just a touch protective of our young Harry." His eyes fairly gleamed in the dim lighting. "Following that vein, find one, locate the other."

HDHDHDHDHDHD

"But I've never had a pet before."

Hermione sighed, looking down into bright green eyes swimming with tears. She knew better, she silently berated herself, than to go against a room full of Slytherins and a determined little boy. "Harry," she pleaded gently, "this snake belonged to a very bad man. How can you know she won't hurt you?"

Harry glared. "Because I do," he said stubbornly, a tear sliding down his cheek. "And Draco says I can keep her." Harry looked up at his favorite snake beseechingly. The blond dropped a kiss on Harry's forehead before turning to glare accusingly at Hermione. A house elf popped up beside the child, offering a platter of warm cookies and a timid smile. Hermione looked away as her heart stumbled at the sight, only to look away hastily from the glaring students around the table. Only Luna wasn't frowning at her. Hermione looked at the girl desperately, hoping for support.

"Perhaps you should change her name to Pelucheux," the blonde suggested dreamily.

Draco looked at the girl incredulously. "Fluffy?" he questioned. "Why the fuck would Harry name his snake Fluffy?"

Luna gazed at Draco unblinkingly. "Because nothing bad can by fluffy," she answered solemnly. Harry frowned, one hand going up to absently rub his scar; Hermione shuddered. She knew quite well that just because something was named Fluffy didn't mean it wasn't scary.

"How about Pinky?" Greg suggested, admiring the shining scales of the snake.

"Or kitten?" Vince suggested. "You know, since you're a Gryffindor and a lion. The snake can be your cute little kitten." He frowned, thinking deeply. "Do you think if the Dark Lord had a kitten he would have turned out so evil?"

Blaise opened and closed his mouth several times; searching for a response. "I don't think so," Greg said confidently, reflecting on the stuffed purple unicorn his Grams had given him as a baby to sleep with. "It's hard to be mean when you have something nice to cuddle."

Pansy sighed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Honestly," she muttered scornfully, "you all should have been Hufflepuffs." She leaned forward, bracing her elbows on the table as she looked seriously at the little boy still perched in Draco's lap. "Listen Tiger," she ordered, "pink is abhorrent; fluffy is bad; inherent cuteness is mildly nauseating at times. Keep her name Nagini, and tell anyone who questions you," she paused to glare at Hermione, "to piss off."

Harry nodded, brightening, beaming at Pansy. "Like my present?" he questioned eagerly.

The blonde smirked, nodding in return. "Precisely like your present," she agreed. Delicately, she took a sip of her tea. "And nobody wants to take our adorable little Har Bear's present away," she paused, looking around the table innocently. "Do they?"

Hermione sighed, conceding defeat. "No," she muttered.

"Now that you have come to a consensus," the smooth voice from the doorway drew everyone's attention, "perhaps you would like to answer a few questions."

Draco paled; smiling nervously. "Hello Mother," he greeted politely. "What…er… what questions would you like answered?"

Narcissa Malfoy's ice blue eyes lingered pointedly on the little boy sitting in her son's lap contentedly munching on cookies while a large snake undulated by his feet. Calmly, she settled herself at the table, accepting a cup of tea from Luna with a gracious nod. "Well," she began, carefully wiping the rim of her cup with a linen napkin. "I could question why my husband is ensconced in the Drawing Room instead of Azkaban, or why I was summarily ordered to watch Harry while he cashed in a few favors and issued a few… requests, of his contacts." Narcissa paused, sipping her tea placidly. "I could question why Albus Dumbledore, my niece, and a," her nose wrinkled slightly, "werewolf are patiently waiting in the Holding Room. Or even, perhaps why the Headmaster is at my home to begin with, while a group of minors are sitting drinking tea in my kitchen instead of safely in school."

"I turned seventeen last month," Vince said seriously.

"Harry killed the Dark Lord," Greg offered.

"We're seeking less violent means of controlling the Rotfang Conspiracy than through the use of undiluted Bobutuber Puss."

"The werewolf has familial claims towards Harry."

"Holding Room?" Hermione questioned dubiously.

"We accidentally on purpose declared loyalty to Harry before the Dark Lord fell," Draco announced; studiously avoiding looking away from the table.

Pansy arched an eyebrow, setting her cup carefully on the table top. "We were following Harry because we care about him." She inclined her head regally. "Or, depending on ones perspective, we were following our unofficial leader to protect our prior claim."

Harry gave Pansy a dubious look. "Following the leader? Isn't that a game?"

The blonde smiled, reaching across the table to brush cookie crumbs off Harry's face. "Of sorts," she agreed.

"I see." Years of being the wife of a politically oriented family had taught Narcissa to absorb situations with a minimum of fuss or reaction. Though her blue eyes were faintly bewildered, she looked utterly composed. "In that case," she continued mildly, "Happy belated birthday Vincent; thank you for your information Gregory; might I suggest diluted Acromantula Venom interspersed with tea tree oil, Miss Lovegood; thank you for enlightening me Blaise; and your father has informed me of our new standing in regards to loyalty." She turned to Draco with a faint smile. "Now, I suggest you all remove yourselves to the Greeting Room while I remain with Harry. I will inform the elves to transfer our… guests… from the Holding Room, and you will ensure none of you are expelled for leaving school without permission." The kids blinked at her for a minute. "Now."

"But Harry killed Voldemort," Hermione protested as Blaise hauled her out of the room. "Surely we won't be expelled."

"Bloody Gryffindors," Draco muttered under his breath. He paused, rubbing the back of Harry's neck soothingly, nodding respectfully to his mother, before following the reluctantly departing students out the door.

Harry and Narcissa regarded each other in silence once the room was emptied. "Stop that Beccalily!" Harry jumped, turning quickly to look at the now sulking house elf by his side. Beccalily had just appeared by Harry's side, attempting to ply the boy with even more sugar than a full plate of cookies and two full cups of hot chocolate provided, only to be stopped by her mistress's sharp rebuke. Narcissa sighed, giving Harry a light smile. "I apologize for snapping, Harry. You see, Beccalily has been ill these last several days and confined to bed. There is nothing worse than a sick house elf. Once they are well again they literally stalk you in an attempt to make up for their missed time of service."

The little boy nodded, fiddling with his mug, occasionally peeking glimpses at the way Narcissa's hair glittered in the sunlight. He blushed when Narcissa caught him looking at her. The blonde tilted her head, studying the boy. "What are you thinking about?"

"You're shiny." Harry stopped, big green eyes widening in horror and mortification. "I mean, you're pretty, like Draco, I mean." He blushed harder, fidgeting in his seat, casting a longing look over his shoulder at the gardens visible through the window. Suddenly his little body stiffened. He turned back to Narcissa. "Did I really kill someone?" He tried so hard to sound unaffected. "Kill somebody dead?"

Narcissa didn't even blink; "Of course not Harry." He relaxed instantly, smiling widely for a minute before returning his attention to his cocoa. Narcissa sighed, turning to watch Beccalily pat Harry's arm consolingly. "Damn you Lucius," she muttered quietly. She stood abruptly, pausing to straighten her dress before inclining her head towards the little boy. "Come along Harry. Let's go make a mess."

"A mess?" He looked horribly confused as he scrambled out of his seat, scooped up Nagini, and followed her.

"Correct. With our changing alliance there are certain artifacts that need to disappear before my husband is questioned by the ministry." She smiled down at the little boy. "We'll make a mess and have fun, Beccalily can clean up behind us and have fun, it's a win win situation." Narcissa winked at Harry. "You're a ten year old boy. You delight in destruction."

He shook his head. "No I don't."

"Well, you will learn to."

HDHDHDHDHD

"Harry killed Voldemort with a rock?"

"A magically enchanted rock," Luna offered dreamily. Everyone ignored her.

Lucius winced at the casual utterance of a name he had feared for so long, but inclined his head in agreement nonetheless. It had taken a full forty five minutes of questioning before Tonks had declared herself satisfied with the telling of events. Lucius, having been a secret supporter of Harry all along, had done his best to support Severus with whichever information he could pass along. After being incarcerated in Azkaban, Lucius and his friend Shane McGregor had learned that Voldemort planned to kidnap Harry and raise the boy as his progeny. The two immediately came up with a daring plan of escape, and Lucius had gone to Harry's aid. The rest of the nights telling came easily after that.

"Precisely how, Mr. Malfoy, were you able to escape from Azkaban in the first place?"

The man smiled indulgently at the young Auror. "Ah, my dear, we are family. Please, call me Lucius." Tonks blushed. Remus glared. Lucius smirked. "Naturally, for a small consultation fee, I would be happy to inform the ministry over potential lapses in their security endeavors."

Lupin scowled. "If McGregor helped you escape in the first place, why didn't he come with you?"

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Remmy, it makes perfect sense. They didn't want to draw You-Know-Who's attention more than necessary in order to keep Harry safe." Pansy and Hermione looked faintly incredulous over the ease of the exchange.

Remus looked between the man in front of him, the silent students, and Dumbledore and Tonks, wordlessly for a few minutes. "That makes perfect sense to you?" His face hardened with resolve. "I want to see Harry."

"We are ready to see you now."

All heads turned to the doorway in surprise. Blaise snorted, Draco beamed, and Greg and Vince started snickering. Standing in the doorway stood Narcissa, Severus, and Harry. The little boy had been cleaned up, and was standing between the two adults wearing formal dark blue robes bearing the Malfoy family crest. Harry grinned, dimples flashing, as he skirted around the adults and made a beeline towards his friends. "Do I look like a proper young man, Draco?" he asked brightly.

"You look fabulous, handsome," Pansy answered.

"Harry!" Lupin sighed with relief, some of the tension draining from his body. "Are you well? Have you been treated all right?"

"I'm fine, sir." Harry looked faintly confused at the questions. "I've been here with my friends." He brightened. "And I made a new friend. A snake. Draco says I can keep her."

"Yes, well," Lupin stood up, straightening his jacket as Tonks hopped to her feet as well. "We'll discuss that once you are safely back at Hogwarts."

"I think not."

Dumbledore stood, smiling at his Potions master, one hand extended entreatingly towards Harry. "What don't you think, Severus?"

"I don't think we will be discussing the matter at Hogwarts," he continued smoothly. Black eyes flashed momentarily. "I do not feel returning to the castle would be beneficial to Harry's growth, at present. I must insist he remains here with me."

Lupin froze, staring in between Snape and Dumbledore incredulously. The headmaster was no longer smiling, merely watching his teacher with a curious expression. "Fortunately," Remus said grimly, "it is not up to you. Harry will be returning to Hogwarts with us immediately." Harry bit his lip, inching closer to Draco on the couch, staring at the adults uncertainly.

"Ah, Lupin;" Snape smirked. "It is there you are wrong." The man's tone was silky and slightly smug. "Headmaster Dumbledore assigned Harry to my care until such time he is returned to his sixteen year old self." His smirk broadened. "Upon agreeing to the servitude, a magically drawn contract of sorts was established. I am currently Harry's Guardian Ad Lidum." Dumbledore stiffened slightly; Lupin looked faintly incredulous. No one else dared utter a word, though Narcissa did permit a faint sneer to grace her lips. "And as Harry's guardian," Snape continued smoothly, "I do not currently feel Hogwarts meets Harry's security needs. Therefore, after carefully considering the best interest of the child in question, I feel Harry should remain here with me."

Lupin lost it. "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR BLOODY MIND!" Harry flinched slightly; uncertain what to do in the face of this seemingly unwarranted anger. Remus had seemed nice when they were playing soccer. Why was the man yelling at his friends now? "Voldemort just fell, there are hundreds of displaced Death Eaters still at large that would love to get their hands on Harry! He is still in danger; especially seeing as how he is still a child! Hogwarts…"

"… will not be safer than Harry being monitored by associates of the very people who seek to harm him," Snape interrupted coldly. "We, unlike others," his eyes flashed again, revealing his carefully controlled anger, "will not allow Death Eaters in disguise to simply wander the premises to their hearts content."

"I thought you said Lucius was on our side?" Lupin questioned quickly; seizing the flaw in Snape's logic.

"Were you aware of my alliance at the time of my entering the school?" Lucius smiled coldly when the other man visibly deflated and turned towards Dumbledore.

"Severus, please," the old man started quietly. "Hogwarts is safer than just about anywhere else for young Harry."

"I do believe that is the same logic you employed for forcing Harry to stay with the Dursley's."

Green eyes widened with hurt betrayal. "You're the one who made me stay with the Dursley's? Why would you do that? They hate me?" Dumbledore sighed, closing his eyes briefly. Harry looked between his headmaster and the man who had known his parents. Quietly, he stood and walked over to Snape; slipping his hand into the older man's. "I want to stay with Professor Snape," he whispered.

"And so you shall." Severus inclined his head. "I shall return with Harry to Hogwarts in the morning; we will remain, if he wishes, long enough to watch the Gryffindor Quidditch team play against Ravenclaw. Then, we will return here, and will continue to return here every night until such time as Harry is old enough to decide differently."

"Mother," Draco turned to his mother, speaking swiftly. "Since father is newly released, may I stay at home as well until such time as the emotional upheaval has concluded?"

A very faint smile graced Narcissa's face. "Of course, darling, I shall write a formal note to your headmaster." She nodded towards her guests briefly before turning back to the little boy and offering her hand. "Come along, Harry, and we will get you situated in the guest room next to Draco's."

"I'll escort you out," Lucius stood, gesturing for the students and adults to precede him out of the room. Tonks had to physically grab Remus' arm and pull him, still sputtering, from the room.

Dumbledore paused briefly by Snape, lowering his voice, gazing at the man over his spectacles. "I do hope you know what you are doing, Severus."

Snape's face was utterly bland as black eyes clashed with blue. "Perhaps I know better than you, sir."

HDHDHDHDHDHD

Harry's heart was racing, his head pounding, muscles shaking, as he sat up with a terrified sob. The dream had been so real!

He looked around, momentarily confused, before remembering. He was at Malfoy Manor, having a sleepover with his best friend, while Professor Snape protected him from the bad guys. But still… he whimpered, pressing his palm against his scar. This was the first time he could remember sleeping alone. None of his snakes were here. His bed post wasn't glowing, spreading soothing light over his room; and there was nothing comforting and soft under his pillow. Because, you know, he didn't sleep with a unicorn or comfy fleece throw. Really. He was ten. Only babies slept with plushies. The unicorn and blanket just happened to wind up underneath his pillow back in his room, where he could easily access them when no one was looking. And if his hand happened to brush against the comforting softness every now and then, well; that was strictly accidental. He whimpered again, feeling oddly bereft in his new surrounding, drawing his knees up to his chest protectively. So caught up in his self-imposed isolation, Harry jumped when strong arms wrapped protectively around him.

"Problems sleeping, Harry?"

Green eyes fluttered closed on a grateful exhalation of breath. "Yes, sir." He sniffed, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. "I had a bad dream."

"About what?" The voice was so gentle, Harry relaxed instinctively.

"About… well it was weird. There was Dobby; you know, my friend? He was slamming his head into something and saying he shouldn't talk bad about his master. Then he was blasting Mr. Malfoy down a hallway. Can elves hurt people? And then," Harry started shaking again, " we were in a graveyard, and then there was this blanket looking thing swaying in the wind."

Severus closed his eyes. In his haste to keep Harry safe he didn't consider the fact the boy was remembering bits and pieces of his real life. And in Harry's real life, all memories relating to the Malfoy family were negative. His eyes flew open at Harry's next question. "Sir? Was my mum a bad person?"

"What? Your mother? Why would you ask that, Harry?"

"Well…" Harry absently began toying with a button on Snape's cloak as he burrowed deeper into the crook of his arms. "Mr. Lupin talked to me about my dad, and a lot of people say I'm just like him. But no one talks about my mum, and I dreamed of her in the graveyard with me and sometimes…"

"Yes," Snape prompted tightly. "Sometimes what?"

"Sometimes I can hear her screaming in my head," Harry whispered. "When I was a little boy I used to think that I didn't deserve a family. That I had been really bad, bad like my mother, and that's why Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia hated me. Aunt Petunia," his breath hitched, "she told me that it was my fault my parents died in that car crash. Was my mother bad? Is that why no one talks about her?"

Tightening his hold on the trembling little boy, Snape maneuvered them both so they were lying on their sides, facing each other. Harry promptly hid his face in his teacher's cloak. "Harry," Severus said calmly, "I want you to listen to me very carefully. Can you do that?" Harry nodded, refusing to lift his face or release his death grip on Snape's arm. "My father was a lot like your uncle." Snape's voice was soft, designed not to carry; Harry stilled against his side, listening intently. "I grew up thinking I was not meant to have a family either. My father… was persuasive. He enjoyed teaching me I was worthless, unlovable, and nothing but trouble."

Harry's head snapped up, green eyes wide and imploring. "You are not! I love you!" He immediately blushed crimson, hiding his face in Snape's robes again.

Severus smiled, raising his other hand to card through Harry's unruly hair. "Thank you, Harry." He paused, searching for words, hand rubbing soothingly across Harry's back. "I met a little girl. A little girl with long red hair, bright green eyes, and the warmest smile I had ever seen. She made me feel smart, special, safe, accepted in a way I had never dreamed possible. I loved her very much. To this day she is the smartest and kindest witch or Muggle I have ever known."

Curious green eyes met troubled black. "Smarter than Mione?" Severus nodded, smiling as Harry's eyes went huge. "My mum was smarter than Mione? Is that even possible?"

"I assure you it is."

"Wow."

"Wow, indeed." Snape paused, bringing his hand under Harry's chin and forcing the boy to meet his eyes steadily. "Harry, one thing your mum taught me was that family is not indicative of blood ties. Rather, family is decided by love, and trust, and comfort. You will always have a family, Harry, and you will always be deserving of a family. If not family by blood, then family by heart."

"Like Draco and Mione?"

"Exactly. Even, Merlin forbid, like your other friends and the Weasley's." He rolled his eyes. "Although I will deny until my dying breath admitting to such blasphemy."

Harry giggled, eyes drooping as he cuddled closer. Snape smiled, pulling the blanket over the little boy. "Sir?"

"Yes Harry?"

"Can we talk about my mum again sometimes?"

"Certainly."

"Sir?"

A sigh. "Yes, Harry?"

"Ron says you don't like me very much as a teenager."

Snape paused, selecting his words with care. "I have come to understand that I don't know you very well as a teenager, Harry." Harry nodded, accepting that. Snape kissed the little boys temple before starting to extract himself from Harry's embrace.

Harry clutched the older man desperately. "Sir? Won't you please stay with me tonight? I promise I don't sleep loud."

Anxious green eyes met cautious black and held for a moment. Snape sighed, giving in. Harry beamed, immediately snuggling close again. "Sir?"

Another sigh; slightly impatient. "Yes, Harry?"

"Now that you know me, will you be my family?"

Arms tightened convulsively around the sleepy child held securely in his arms. He leaned over and kissed the boys temple again.

"Certainly."


	15. Welcome Home

WARNINGS and DISCLAIMERS still apply. While I know it has been forever since I updated, I assure you I did not win the lottery and buy the rights to Harry Potter. They still belong to JK, alas.

Soooo... I know it has been forever since I updated and I am SO SO SORRY! My aunt has been in and out of the hospital, finally out, and my mom went a little nutso. Well, moreso than usual :) and decided to have a Thanksgiving in February! I quit asking questions when I was twelve. I am the queen of smiling and nodding politely. Then a very good friend of mine found out she has thyroid cancer. So... if it is true that things come in three... well, I promise to give my password to my friend Leslie so she can update on my behalf once I commit myself. :)

1. Yeah! I was hoping everyone would like the Harry/Snape moment in the last chap. The collective "aww" reassurred me it wasn't toooo cheesy.

2. Yep, Harry's almost done being ten. Promise. While I cannot promise not to take forever and six years between posting again, I promise I will not take a month and a half again. I have the whole story mostly written.

3. Nope, I will never abandon a story. I hate it when writers just stop. I understand it, but I hate it. No, I was distracted by reality and THEN my crack monkey of a muse made me start a new story. A dark story that actually frightens me to think it came out of my head. I worry. It's a creature fic, but I won't post it until I get closer to finishing my other WIP's.

If you are still reading this, please know I love you oodles and bunches! Thanks for waiting for me! This is kind of a transitional chapter, and I think it's a little boring, so I apologize. Next chapter my muse went a little wonky and it is decidedly... upbeat.

Kisses!  
Roo

HDHDHDHDHD

"Hatred is like a poison, Harry."

The little boy looked up, brow furrowed in confusion. He was sitting in his room, eating breakfast with Professor Snape, writing diligently in his notebook that his Mione had owled him that morning. After sighing morosely and scribbling a reply to her letter, he had wondered out loud whether Draco was mad at him since he didn't come see him last night or join them for breakfast. Snape had lifted his eyebrow, studied the downtrodden face in that freakishly intent way of his, and then started this new vein of conversation. "I don't understand, sir. Draco doesn't hate me, does he?"

Snape snorted, carefully placing his tea back on the table. "Not hardly, Harry. But you see, young Mr. Malfoy has his actions dictated by hatred as much as you do."

Harry frowned. "But I don't hate Draco neither."

"Either," Snape corrected automatically. Harry rolled his eyes and resumed pushing his breakfast around on his plate. "The thing is, Harry, the Malfoy family is what one could correctly label as… influential. Whether their influence is good or bad is often a matter of perspective and opinion, but there are few who will deny that a Malfoy is resourceful or clever." He paused, regarding the solemn faced child in front of him. "Right now, the Malfoy family is suffering from the backlash of having their name associated with the Dark Lord."

"The mean guy who tried to hurt Nagini?" Harry smiled at his pet where she lay curled up on the bed.

He nodded once in agreement. "Correct. As a result of this… association, taking into account his recent bout of generosity where you are concerned, the Malfoy family is under house arrest until ministry representatives can question you to their satisfaction."

Harry's shoulders drooped. "I don't like being under house arrest," he said glumly. "My cupboards not so bad, but I like not being locked up all day." He shrugged, resigned to his fate, and scowled at his eggs as though they were singularly responsible for his misfortune. "So I can't see Draco because people hate him? People are stupid."

"Some people are stupid," Snape agreed quietly. "But, like I said, hatred is like a poison. It spreads. Rapidly. And often has either unforeseen or negative consequences." He paused, sipping his tea slowly. "There is a beautiful plant I work with frequently as a Potions Master called Caladium. It has small, heart shaped leaves, produces flowers and berries, and is quite popularly used for decoration. Caladium is a main ingredient in pain relieving potions, pepper up potions, anti-fever and anti-swelling solutions, as well as a multitude of other useful or superfluous potions." He paused again, focusing on curious green eyes as he sipped at his tea. "Ironically, eating or nibbling any part of this plant raw can cause severe stomach pain, vomiting, diarrhea, as well as burning and swelling in the mouth and throat. In rare cases, death may occur."

Harry thought about this, absently accepting a blueberry muffin and taking a bite. "You see Harry," Snape continued, "people who assume Caladium is harmless because it is beautiful and useful in such helpful potions feel betrayed and angered when that same plant turns around and hurts them. Pretty soon, they start associating the plant as negative, and react poorly when someone such as I or yourself treat the plant with respect or affection."

"But Draco's not a plant… oh." Harry frowned. "So, because the Malfoy's are influential, people thought they were good and now think they're bad because of the mean guy?" Snape nodded. Harry rolled his eyes again. "Like when Luke found out that Darth Vader was his father. Everyone hated him because he was the bad guy, and then Luke's all 'what? You're my dad? No way' and didn't know what to do for a few minutes."

Black eyes blinked. "Pardon?"

"It's ok," Harry assured him, "he figured out what he had to do by the end of the movie."

Snape rubbed his forehead. Plants. He understood plants. No one in their right mind understood ten year old boys. "How very reassuring for Luke."

"So," Harry toyed with his fork unhappily, "I can't see Draco until the other people figure out that he's not the bad guy?"

"Correct. This should be around lunch time since ministry representatives will be here to talk with you shortly."

"Me? Why do I need to be the one to tell them Draco's not the bad guy?"

"Because you are the protagonist. You defeated the Dark Lord. Whether I approve or not, your opinion matters and you have the power to help the Malfoy family."

"Like Luke?"

"If you prefer."

"Wicked," Harry grinned. "Do I get a light saber too?"

HDHDHDHDHDHDHD

"When did you last speak with Mr. Malfoy?"

"Err… you mean Draco?"

The Auror sighed, looking slightly frustrated. "No, Mr. Potter, I do not mean Draco Malfoy. I mean the senior Malfoy, Lucius."

"Oh." Harry frowned, thinking. He glanced over at where Snape sat watching the interview. "Well, I saw him when we were talking with Mr. Dumbledore and Remus and Tonks." Harry's shrugged. "And then we had dinner and I tried to remember to behave the way Aunt Petunia says I should behave around important company. Then I went to bed. So… I guess I saw him at dinner."

"At any time since you have been a guest in the Malfoy home have they prompted you on what to say?"

Harry sighed. "Just because they're pretty doesn't mean the Malfoy's are poisonous, you know."

Snape coughed violently, turning away slightly from the confused faces of the Auror's. Kingsley Shacklebolt smiled. "A very astute analogy, Mr. Potter."

Minister Fudge interrupted peevishly. "Why are you here instead of at Hogwarts or with your family? Have the Malfoy's drugged you? Cursed you? Are they holding you against your will?"

Green eyes glared at the insipid little man. "No," Harry said firmly. "Ever since Mr. Dumbledore let the nurse give me medicine that made me explode I don't take anything unless Mr. Snape gives it to me. I'm here instead of at school because Mr. Snape says it's in my best interest to be here, and I trust him to keep me safe. Mrs. Malfoy is nice. Her friend Beccalily gave me cookies and hot chocolate, and then we played a wicked fun game. Draco and my friends took me away from the mean man and Draco said I could keep my pet. Draco's my friend. And Mr. Malfoy is my best friend's dad so I knew when he said he would not take me back to my relative's house he wouldn't. And he didn't. He introduced me to a new friend."

Fudge seized one aspect of Harry's admission. "Aha! So you admit that Lucius Malfoy unlawfully took you away with the full knowledge that your aunt was expecting you home."

"No," Harry sighed irritably. "I went with Mr. Malfoy because he's my friends' dad and he promised he wouldn't take me to the Dursley's. I told you I didn't want to go there!"

"And why not?"

"Because they suck."

Snape snorted again, gracefully settling himself on the seat next to Harry. "Gentlemen," he said smoothly, "while under the care of his relatives Harry lived in a cupboard under the stairs and was degraded on a daily basis. While at Hogwarts, this year alone he was turned into a child, physically assaulted by a friend, nearly drowned, forced to consume potions against his will, set on fire, and forced to face the Dark Lord. Harry has just told you that while under the care of Mr. Malfoy he successfully defeated the Dark Lord, gained a pet, spent quality time with a mother figure, and spent the afternoon consuming cookies and chocolate." He raised an eyebrow, smiling sardonically. "Precisely which example seems deleterious to Mr. Potter's well being?"

Cornelius' face turned scarlet. "That's entirely beside the point! We are here to determine whether…"

"Whether or not I chose to leave Azkaban to help Harry like I said in a previous statement, or with ulterior motives," a silky voice interrupted from the doorway. All heads turned to see Lucius and Narcissa standing in the doorway. Harry jumped up and ran over, hugging Narcissa around the waist.

Fudge paled alarmingly. "Lucius…"

"Minister." The elder Malfoy nodded graciously. "How lovely of you and your guests to join us this evening. Although, I must admit, the implication that the Malfoy name should be considered so tarnished is a matter of great personal distress for me. Best get this situation resolved quickly, lest I feel the urge to seek legal counsel and monetary compensation to restore a semblance of propriety."

Harry stared at the minister in faint concern, rather alarmed that someone possessed the ability to change colors faster than Uncle Vernon. It really couldn't be the healthiest alternative. "But, but," Fudge blustered, "you are in no position to make such threats! Need I remind you that you are the one who escaped from a high security prison where you had been sentenced for Death Eater activity!"

"A regrettable situation and one that will long fester in my nightmares," Lucius replied unblushingly. "However, a necessary course of actions in order to fulfill my role as spy."

"A spy?" Fudge echoed weakly. His gaze swept the room, looking for assistance, before settling on Harry with a look of greedy expectation. His smile was maliciously gleeful. "Need I remind you of the circumstances surrounding your imprisonment?"

"Harry?" Lucius' hand was firm and supportive on the little boys shoulder. Narcissa's arm clenched slightly where it was wrapped around him. "Do you remember our discussion on the man who died?"

Green eyes dimmed sadly. "It's not my fault," he repeated dutifully, still feeling bad over the fate of the man who had hurt his snake. "Sometimes circumstances are beyond our control and we must deal with the consequences, be those good or bad." Kingsley Shacklebolt, thinking Harry was discussing what had happened to Sirius and well aware of the guilt Harry carried over the death of his Godfather, closed his eyes in sympathy and smiled sadly.

Lucius had a smug smirk firmly on his face. "That's right, Harry," he praised quietly, squeezing the skinny shoulder approvingly. Harry straightened up to his full height and grinned in return. "And what, if anything, has my wife taught you in the brief time you have spent with her?"

Harry looked confused for a moment. "Err…" He remembered walking into the drawing room earlier. "Teaching me how to be a proper young wizard?" he asked tentatively.

"Exactly!" Lucius smirked at the once again red faced minister. "I swore, once before, over my embarrassing resistance to the Imperius curse." He attempted to look woeful. "Long has my family been associated with Severus Snape. Dumbledore himself swore on Severus' behalf in regards to his Death Eater status. Do you really believe such a figurehead of war would allow one of his puppets to associate with a genuine Death Eater?" Snape glowered at the term but remained silent, watching the proceedings with amusement, and shaking his head almost imperceptibly at Shacklebolt when the Auror caught his eye. "All of my actions, regrettably, have been necessary in order to achieve" if anyone noticed the distasteful expression on Lucius' face they chose not to comment, "the greater good."

Harry sighed, turning to his professor imploringly. "Can we be done now, sir?"

Snape stood at once, nodding. "Indeed we can, Mr. Potter." He nodded once to Narcissa, who immediately tightened her hold on Harry once again before turning and sweeping from the room. Harry heard the voices behind him raised in anger and flinched instinctively.

"Did I cause trouble?" he asked quietly.

Narcissa patted Harry on the head, walking quietly by his side as she mentally contemplated how best to address that question. "Harry," she said finally, "you caused no trouble. Sometimes individuals become complacent. They feel that they, and they alone, are correct in their opinions and feelings. Having their ideals challenged can be… painful. And frustrating. And while normally I would be loathe to admit it, dealing with the resulting headache is necessary for growth and development."

"Are they going to hurt Mr. Snape or Lucius?"

Grey eyes sharpened as Narcissa studied the down turned head intently. "Harry," she said softly, "anger is not always a gateway for physical abuse." Harry flushed, remaining quiet, although he did relax slightly and lean into Narcissa's side more fully.

They walked in companionable silence out elaborate French doors, following a twisting path through lush gardens. "Harry?" Narcissa's voice was gentle. "Will you tell me about living with your Muggles?"

"You mean the Dursley's?" At her nod, Harry pulled away from her side. Not enough to dislodge the arm wrapped comfortingly about his shoulders, but enough to allow space for his arms to cross protectively around his waist. "What about them? Have I upset you? Are you sending me away? I'm sorry!"

"Harry!" Narcissa's voice rose slightly in alarm. Harry flinched instinctively, lowering his eyes to stare miserably at the path. Gently, Narcissa guided the little boy to a bench, settling them both down and stroking unruly black locks. "You have done nothing to upset me! On the contrary, you have helped my family in a way you may object to once you age. I wish to assist you in any way I possibly can," she paused, continuing in a carefully controlled voice, "and I think that as difficult as it may be to speak about, you need to share your experiences with someone who can understand."

"How can you understand?" Harry's voice was resentful and slightly petulant. "You've never met the Dursley's."

"No, I have not. However, I have several relatives that I refer to by their surname. I know what that type of connotation represents."

"Huh?"

"When I was ten years old my Aunt Wilburga punished me for an infraction by holding me under the Cruciatus curse for two minutes. That is a curse that causes extreme amounts of pain," she elaborated at Harry's questioning look. "Much the same way that certain members of society spit out the name 'Malfoy' like it is a disease, for the last twenty seven years whenever I think of that woman I refer to her as Lady Black." Harry nodded, kicking his feet in the loose rocks under his feet. "Harry," Narcissa's voice was as gentle as the fingers she placed under his chin, coaxing him to look at her. She brushed dark strands of hair off his forehead. "I promise I will understand and will not think any less of you. Won't you please talk to me?"

"They never caused me extreme amounts of pain." Somehow it was infinitely harder to look Narcissa in the eye. Harry felt a rush of gratitude when she allowed his eyes to drop back to his feet. "They just didn't like me. Or my parents. Maybe if they hadn't died in that car crash then things would have been different, but they did. "

"Harry, your parents… never mind. Please continue."

Harry hesitated, feeling mortified and ashamed for some inexplicable reason. "My teacher read me a book once called 'Tikki Tikki Tembo.' It's about this boy who was born to this family and loved. His name literally means 'the most wonderful thing in the world.' Then the boy had a brother and his parents named him Chang, which meant 'little or nothing.' It was kind of like that for me. Dudley, my cousin, could do nothing wrong and I was just a waste of space." He looked up, worried, when Narcissa stiffened. She produced a smile, though, so Harry took a deep breath and kept talking.

"I sleep in my cupboard under the stairs. It's not so bad; it's quiet. But Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon decide when I go to bed and when it is time for me to wake up. And the lock… is on the outside of the door. It used to bother me when I was just a kid, but it's not too bad now. I just… I just wish I wasn't such a freak. Things are always happening to me, things I don't mean to, they just do." He sighed despondently. "Once you realize what a freak I am, you'll probably hate me too. Draco says I'm not a freak, that I can do magic, but the Dursley's… they say that magic is bad. That the things that happen to me are my fault, even though I don't know how they happen. Aunt Petunia took me to a revival when I was little and the minister tried to get the devil out of me, but it didn't work."

"Have they physically harmed you as well?"

A flush spread over Harry's face all the way to the tip of his ears. "Dudley likes to go Harry hunting. And Uncle Vernon… well, it's not so bad unless his face turns purple. But they learned when I was little that it was best not to hurt me too badly, or else I won't be able to do my chores the next day and might have to miss school. Dudley falls behind when I miss school," he explained. "I just need to remember to be good or else my friends might go away. Sometimes, like when I'm happy, I forget, but Draco and Mione and my friends say they like it when I'm happy. Sometimes Draco and Pansy tease each other about not being friends anymore, but it's just a joke." He brightened, cheered by the memory. "My snakes say they will be my friends no matter how I act, because they like me and that Dudley can go piss off."

Narcissa's face had an oddly gray tint to it, even as she smiled at the reference to her son. She had to take several deep breaths before she was able to speak. "Forgive me for sounding redundant, Harry, but magic is magical. There is nothing freakish about it, and anyone who attempts to tell you otherwise is far too close minded to be believable."

"Like people thinking you guys are poisonous because you're pretty?" he asked hopefully.

"Exactly like that!" Narcissa praised, leaning over to kiss his forehead. "Something I learned a long time ago is that people who feel you are beneath them are frightened of your potential. Attempting to coddle or patronize that opinion only tends to cause a more violent reaction. Harry, you must never be ashamed of who you are, or what you are capable of. Doubting your abilities is for the weak, the needy, and the helpless. You have far too large a core group of supporters to ever be that codependent."

"Huh?"

"There are many people who love you, Harry. Your friends, my family, Severus, Headmaster Dumbledore, the wolf, and my niece to name a few. Think of them whenever you are feeling low or sad. Do not think of the ones who seek to constrict your potential."

Harry nodded, feeling an unfamiliar glow spread rapidly throughout his chest. He leaned a little bit further into Narcissa's embrace, enjoying the peace of the gardens and the unexpected warmth of the day. "Well," Narcissa stated abruptly, rising gracefully from the bench and brushing imaginary wrinkles off her gown, "we'd best be off. I know Draco had a surprise in store for you today."

"A surprise? Really?" Green eyes brightened at the thought. "What kind of surprise?"

Narcissa smiled, leading Harry towards a nearly invisible door hidden in the garden wall. "Well, since you will not be returning to Hogwarts this evening, I believe he wanted to teach you how to fly." Harry laughed outright at the thought, impulsively hugging her around the waist again. "Harry?" Narcissa's voice was quiet once again.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Will you promise me something?"

"Of course."

"Will you promise to speak to Severus about what you have spoken with me about today?"

Harry tensed, turning to gave anxiously at the lady walking calmly and confidently besides him. Hesitantly, he nodded. Narcissa beamed. "Thank you, Harry."

HDHDHDHDHDHD

Ginny caught the snitch, although Slytherin ended up winning by twenty points.

The parties that night were subdued. The Gryffindors celebration of the demise of Voldemort counterbalanced by their hollow victory and missing friend. Ron sat silently in front of the window in their dorm room. It did not escape his attention that this was the very window Harry routinely sat at to gaze at the stars and think. He had done it. His best friend had killed the dirty tosser. But instead of celebrating with a couple Butterbeers or a few rounds of Exploding Snap, his friend was at Malfoy Manor. Happy. With his new friends. Ron had always thought that Harry was too serious, too introverted, for his own good. As best mate, it was his responsibility to help balance Harry's emotions; convince him to laugh in the face of overwhelming adversity. But sometimes… well, sometimes Ron didn't think before he spoke. And, in one way or another, he had pushed Harry away to the point where he felt substantially more comfortable around the Slytherins. Ron sat there, watching the stars twinkle and shine, and swore to whoever was listening that he was going to grow up and learn how to be the kind of friend Harry needed.

The Slytherins were subdued as well. Several of them openly cheered the fall of the Dark Lord, others tentatively and unconvincingly joining in the festivities in a hope to avoid the backlash of negativity that would be surrounding their families over the next few weeks. The careful greetings to Hermione as she sat amongst them were testimony enough to that fact. More than a few students, however, had their elation over their Quidditch win surpassed by the nagging worry over their head of house and the Malfoy family. Whether they agreed with him or not, most Slytherins had chosen Draco as their leader because they genuinely admired and respected him. And Professor Snape was always there with letters of recommendation for secondary learning institutions, a pat on the shoulder, a nod of approval. It was a difficult thing for Slytherin students to relax, when two of their own were not cocooned in the safety of the common room.

Albus Dumbledore finished his staff meeting, dismissing his teachers to attend to their own celebrations. For a long time he sat at his desk, gazing fixedly at a nondescript cherry wood box. Occasionally, he would reach out and run his fingers over the glossy wood pensively, before resuming his introspection. Varying devices bubbled and moved cheerfully on the shelf to his left. Harry was happy. Harry was safe. But Harry was not at Hogwarts. Precisely how much of Harry's current housing situation was Dumbledore's own fault?

Remus Lupin stood in the bitter cold, just outside the rather impressive wards surrounding Malfoy Manor. The Auror on duty was an Order member. She had smiled sympathetically at the man unable to breach the wards to attend young Harry and left him to his silent vigil. The werewolf stood there, ignoring the biting wind, gazing deeply at the cheerfully lit up windows in front of him. At five and at ten, Harry didn't trust him. Sure, he responded to the older man politely and was eager to hear stories about his parents, but not once had he spoken to Remus without the steadying protection of Severus Snape of his snakes nearby. And now… Now Harry had chosen to stay with the Malfoy family rather than return to the castle or headquarters with him or Dumbledore. Moony had not missed the way Harry had stood so comfortably next to Narcissa before heading straight to Draco that day. Why was his best friends only son more comfortable around virtual strangers than himself?

The Malfoy's knew none of this, however.

Harry sat curled up in a large armchair writing faithfully in the book Mione had sent him, giggling as Nagini occasionally stuck out her tongue and tickled his feet. Once he grew bored writing, Draco was quick to engage him in a game of chess with his father. Harry had no clue about the elaborate strategy Draco mapped out, but thought the pieces going to war with each other was brilliant. Lucius won three games in a row while before Draco managed to teach Harry some semblance of competitive drive. Narcissa and Severus spoke quietly, flicking the occasional glance Harry's way. After a time, Harry abandoned chess to lie on the couch with his head in Narcissa's lap. He fell asleep to the scratching of the quill as she wrote her own observation in his book.

And when Harry woke up at three in the morning, breathing harshly and sweating from his bad dream, he realized he had been placed back into his bed. In his own room. And was sleeping between Draco and Narcissa while Snape read a book quietly on the couch. Harry smiled, feeling an odd sense of belonging and happiness. He turned over, one hand absently reaching for a lock of Draco's hair. Not quite as soft as his…err…Greg's unicorn, but vastly reassuring. He fell back asleep with a smile on his face.


	16. Discontent

It started with a headache.

Harry shivered, wrapping his arms tighter around his frame as he huddled next to the broom shed. He'd woken up about an hour ago, smiling when his eyes opened on Draco's sleeping face, and thought about his time at Malfoy Manor. It was like a dream. A really elaborate dream that he just knew he would be waking up from soon. For the three days he had been there, it had seemed far too ideal to be realistic. Harry had been waiting, even as he smiled and laughed and hung out with his best friend, waiting for the other shoe to drop. And this morning it had. He had lain there, studying Draco's face in that weird shade of light that always occurred just before dawn, when the sheer unreality of the situation seemed to hit him all at once.

He didn't belong here.

His breath caught as the thought slammed into his head. This whole time with the Malfoy's was like… was like that time Aunt Petunia watched a movie about a girl who was kidnapped at birth. The girl grew up lonely and sad, until one day she met a man who knew her mother and suddenly the girl had a family and money and everyone was happy. Aunt Petunia had cried at the movie, muttering about happily ever after and the sheer romance of the situation. Dudley had rolled his eyes at his mum; looking bored and slightly disgusted. It was one of the rare times Harry was in complete agreement with his cousin. Because he knew that stuff like that never happened in real life. He knew that if something like that ever happened to him it would taste like birthday cake that had been left out too long. Stale. Sugary. Artificial. And suddenly his breathing was coming in desperate pants and his head hurt and Harry bolted out of bed and ran as fast as he could out of the house to someplace he could simply breathe.

Green eyes filled with tears as Harry huddled deeper into himself on the cold ground. He couldn't bear it if the Malfoy family was taken away from him too. He loved them. Well, maybe not Lucius, as he had barely spent any time with the man. But he definitely loved Draco and Snape and Narcissa. What would they do, how would they react, once they realized he was an interloper into their world?

"Harry?"

Shoulders slumping, Harry hugged his legs tighter against his chest, ignoring the soft footfalls growing closer. He jumped, startled, when a warm cloak slid around his trembling shoulders. "It doesn't work!"

"Doesn't work? What doesn't work, Harry?"

He sniffed, wiping his tears with the back of his hand, refusing to meet the confused gray eyes above him in case they were filled with derision or disgust. "I don't work Draco! I don't fit in here! And I'm trying…" he choked out a broken sob. "I'm really trying not to mess up or be stupid but it's so hard to know what to do and I don't want you to hate me. Oh please don't hate me Draco!"

Draco didn't hesitate before reaching out and pulling the huddled figure close to his side. "Harry, why on earth would I hate you? I don't hate you." Only slightly disgusted with himself, Draco leaned over and kissed the top of Harry's head. Rather than soothing the boy, however, the kiss only served to make Harry cry harder.

"Don't you see Draco?" Harry's whole body was shaking with the force of his tears. "You have this perfect house and this great family. You're smart and pretty and people like you! I'm… I…" Green eyes closed in despair as his tousled head shook back and forth; unable to properly articulate his fears. "I don't belong here! I don't know what to do! And I love your family and I love you and I love Snape, but it's… it's… it's too much! It's like leftover birthday cake! And I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop and I keep trying to act like Narcissa wants me to act, but I can't do it all the time! It makes my head hurt and it's hard to breathe and my heart pumps so fast I can taste blood in the back of my throat!"

Draco's arm tightened around Harry in alarm as the little boy's breathing sped up. "Harry! Calm down, take a deep breath. Good. One more." He rubbed soothing circles on the thin back as he waited for the tears to abate. When he had awakened to an empty bed he had panicked; using a point me spell until he had located Harry outside by the Quidditch pitch. He had been smiling as he walked up to the little boy, thinking how it was so utterly Harry to sneak outside for an early morning flying lesson. Then he had seen the thin shoulders shaking and instantly feared Harry had somehow managed to hurt himself. Now, listening to Harry cry and try to explain what he was feeling… Draco was bewildered. Harry thought his family was like birthday cake? That didn't even make sense!

"Now, what do you mean my family is like leftover birthday cake?" Draco looked faintly insulted by the comparison.

Harry groaned, frustrated, and absently rubbed his scar. He relaxed instantly when Draco reached up and gently rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean, I mean it's too much. I'm never alone and your mum's always petting me, and I have to keep talking to people, and my head hurts, and my body feels awkward, and no one tells me what to do throughout the day!"

They sat quietly. Draco continuing to rub Harry's neck while the little boy relaxed by degrees and leaned further against Draco's side. "I never knew you were so reliant upon structure," Draco whispered against Harry's hair.

"What do you mean?"

Draco sighed. "Your damn Muggles have trained you to need direction. I think," he paused, carefully weighing his words, "I think that you spent so long being told what to do and when to do it that you feel… lost with excessive amounts of freedom." His lips tightened. "You aren't used to being praised or accepted or patted on the back, and we Malfoy's can be a tad… overwhelming."

"But Draco, it's weird."

"Why? Because we like you? Well, you'll have to get over that, because we all like you here. And mum, well, she's going to keep 'petting' you until you stop flinching or goggling at her every time she reaches out to you. I can tell her to back off, but Harry you have to understand that most little boys do not want to be told what to do. I think, in a way, mum wants you to tell her to back off. And I also think that you will not be left alone, because we all feel we need to be careful with you."

Harry turned his head and looked at Draco incredulously. "I can't tell your mum to back off! Draco! That would be rude! And what do you mean you have to be careful with me?" Harry scowled. "I'm not a baby, you know." Belatedly, he wiped off his remaining tears.

"No one thinks you're a baby," Draco soothed calmly. "Just know that it makes mum happy to muss up your hair or pat you on the shoulder. The important thing to remember is that appearances dictate she not be so familiar with you outside the familial setting, so she'll never embarrass you in front of other people. Just try to be patient with her, and I promise you will feel less overwhelmed. In return, I promise to provide more organization to your day if it will help you transition. I'll talk to Uncle Severus. The man is a demon when it comes to schedules." Draco frowned, thinking about that. "No wonder it's so surreal for you here. You spend your days in the dungeons with him. He probably tells you when you can or cannot go to the bathroom!"

Harry smiled faintly, burrowing his pounding head into Draco's shoulder. "Do you think I'm a freak?"

"Absolutely not. And I don't want you to think you're a freak either." Harry shrugged, neither agreeing with or arguing the point. Draco sighed softly. "Is anything else bothering you Harry?"

Harry shrugged again. "I have a headache."

"Well then, let's get some breakfast into you. Maybe you just need to jumpstart your metabolism. If your head still hurts after you eat, we'll lie down and rest for awhile. OK?"

Narcissa looked positively smug when Harry merely smiled as she brushed a lock of his hair off his forehead. Snape, coming up from the potions laboratory in the basement, studied Harry's pale face and shadowed eyes with concern, but appeared satisfied by the amount of food Draco was coaxing the child into eating. Harry ate his breakfast, smiled politely, and joined the conversation when required. He felt like he was looking at a painting; observing the varying patterns of light, the tilt of a head, the graceful arc of a hand, the way each person seemed so connected and yet off in their own little world. His heart wasn't beating quite so fast since his outburst out by the Quidditch pitch… but still. As much as he yearned to be a part of the cozy scene in front of him, there was something inside him, some integral warped part of his persona, that left him feeling like an outsider playing a role.

And still his head continued to ache.

HDHDHDHDHDHDHD

By lunch time, even Lucius thought he was illhehehe.

Harry was shaking, pale, refused to eat, running a fever, and curled up in bed where his headache had morphed into a dragon gleefully sharpening its claws on the remnants of Harry's brain. All he could do was lay curled up, back turned to the window that, even with the curtains drawn, was far too bright for his sensitive eyes. Draco sat next to his bed, reading quietly or writing in Harry's journal, and occasionally murmuring platitudes under his breath until Harry whimpered at him to be quiet. Narcissa flittered in and out. Ordering Beccalily to fetch broth and water crackers; occasionally soothing his forehead with a cool washcloth. Harry, for once, didn't care about the constant stream of attention. He thought longingly of his mother, sitting by his bedside and telling him stories before softly kissing him good night. But wait… that wasn't his mother, was it? That was Mione. Who was at Hogwarts. Shouldn't he be at Hogwarts? Sneaking through a tunnel to get chocolates, or waving at the red haired woman in the mirror? It was all too confusing and it hurt to think.

And then Snape was there, placing his cool hands on Harry's forehead, pricking his finger and collecting a sample of blood. Harry wanted to protest, wanted to complain that even the smallest pinprick felt like sandpaper on his flesh, but then Snape was forcing a potion for pain and Dreamless Sleep down his throat, and the darkness was dense and inviting. Harry closed his eyes and blissfully surrendered to a world where it didn't hurt to breathe.

He awoke hours later; the sound of furious whispering invading his cocoon of oblivion. "… What I am saying, Draco, is that I am aware of his activities up until this morning. Are you certain that he has neither consumed nor partaken in anything questionable?"

"No, Severus, I swear! We talked this morning, he ate bacon and eggs and porridge for breakfast, and then we played Exploding Snap until he said he wanted to lie down. That's it! Why?" Draco's voice changed from defensive to worried. "What's wrong with him?"

"Think, Mr. Malfoy. Would I be interrogating you over his morning routine if I had the faintest of inklings how Harry could go from healthy to violently ill in the span of a few hours? His red blood cells are enlarged, indicating an infection of some sorts. What I cannot ascertain is how he contacted this infection, or precisely where in his body it stems from."

"He said his head hurt earlier."

"It still does," Harry whispered. He relaxed fractionally when the whispering abruptly cut off, though he did not try to open his eyes.

"How are you feeling now, Mr. Potter?"

"Heavy," Harry slurred out. "It feels funny to breathe, and I don't want to open my eyes, and I can't lift my legs." He felt the bed dip on his left hand side, but couldn't be bothered to look at the person. It was still relatively light in his bedroom. Light was bad. Dark was good. Harry frowned at this thought, dimly remembering someone with violent red hair telling him Slytherin was dark and evil. But Draco was in Slytherin. And it was his room in his home that was light. Harry giggled, wondering what this red haired memory would think about his current thought pattern. And toilet seats. And dragons and goblins, oh my! Maybe he shouldn't think about red haired people anymore. Hallucinations were amongst the Top Ten Unacceptable Behaviors on Uncle Vernon's list.

"Why are you laughing, Harry?" Draco's voice was quiet, his hand soothingly rubbing the back of Harry's neck. Harry wanted to stretch up into the touch and purr, but that would require movement. Which in turn required effort. Much simpler to remain in one spot.

"Red hair."

"Red hair makes you laugh?" Draco groaned. "Damn it Potter. Is that why you befriended Weasley all those years ago? Because his hair makes you laugh? His hair makes me nauseous! Had I known this, we could have bonded and become friends years ago!"

"Ok," Harry agreed sleepily. "Can you make me go to sleep again?"

Snape murmured something quietly. Harry listened with vague interest as Draco answered with a slightly anxious tone to his voice. "I owled Hermione. She said it sounded like an anxiety attack, and we should honor his request for continuity in a healthy way that encourages emotional development. Or something to that effect. She also said she was really surprised Harry lasted this long before melting down. Why would she be surprised, sir?"

A deep sigh stirred the air on the other side of Harry. "Victims of abuse often feel that they deserve the treatment they receive. I, too, have been pleasantly surprised by Harry's resilience at both age five and ten. However, I am inclined to agree with Miss Granger's opinion that what Harry experienced this morning was indeed an anxiety induced attack. The headache and exhaustion, I believe, are physical manifestations of his emotional insecurity. It's good for him, hard as the thought may be to accept. This pain is a sign of growth."

"So, what, we just let him hurt?"

"I admit I don't care for it either. But, essentially, yes. Harry is breaking down barriers. Cushioning him with too many pain relievers will only prolong the experience. The chemicals in his blood stream, while still accelerated, are not dangerously high. A standard drug and allergy test against a blood sample came back benign. Essentially, Mr. Potter is not in immediate danger."

"But sleep is good," Harry whined, grasping enough of the conversation to realize he was not going to be allowed to go back to sleep.

"Indeed," Snape sounded both disgusted and amused, "he has begun whining like most children I have the misfortune of dealing with. I will be bringing you a tray, Harry, of food you will eat. You have ten minutes to resign yourself to that inevitability. Should you feel the need for further exclamations of dissent, take my absence as an opportunity to do so."

Harry pouted, still refusing to open his eyes, as a small discharge of air and the sound of cloth snapping announced his guardian's exit. "What did all that mean?"

"It means, Harry, to get the whining out of your system now, because he doesn't want to hear it and expects to find you sitting up and alert when he returns."

"Why couldn't he just say that?" Green eyes opened to glare balefully at Draco before immediately closing again. Harry whimpered; fighting the nausea as the dim lighting caused the dragon nesting in his head to rear in displeasure.

"Oh, our beloved Severus gets all prissy and prickly when he is concerned. Like I told you earlier, Harry, we are all trying to be careful with you. He can't stand it that you are less than perfect while under his care. Come on, I'll help you sit up."

Professor Snape eyed Harry carefully when he returned carrying a tray. Harry squinted at him, refusing to open his eyes completely. "At least half this bowl of soup, a Nutrient Potion, and three bites of bread," he stated; neatly settling the tray across Harry's lap. "Then, and only then, will I put you back to sleep." Harry brightened and obediently reached for his spoon. He liked sleep.

This time when he awoke the room was pitch black.

He felt… weird. Unsettled. Itchy. It felt familiar, this crawling sensation, and made him remember drinking something foul before looking at a…cat?... in a bathroom stall. Harry didn't dwell on the sensation long as his stomach lurched unpleasantly. In seconds he was up and out of bed and bolting to the bathroom where he was violently ill. The cold cloth felt amazing against his forehead. Tears slid down his face as he leaned back into the solid and comforting warmth behind him. "I'm sorry," he whimpered. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"It's quite all right, Harry." Pale hands gently dabbed the cool washcloth across his forehead and flushed cheeks.

"You don't have to do that," he whispered. "Don't have to stay with me. I promise I'll clean up the bathroom before I go back to bed."

His teacher didn't move. "As hard as it may be to believe, Harry, I do not mind assisting you with this. Once you invite someone to be your family and that person accepts, the inevitable illnesses or distressing events will be weathered together."

"Not my family," Harry muttered, before leaning away and retching once again. He could feel his nose bleeding. The blood dripping down his face, mingling with his tears and the acidic residue on his lips to create a truly vile taste. Harry felt disgusting. "Please don't look at me," he begged; curling up into a ball in front of the toilet.

"Would you be more comfortable back in your bed?" Harry ignored the quiet voice, ignored the timid knock on the bathroom door, and simply curled up tighter into himself and made an incomprehensible noise of distress. He heard fabric rustle as Snape rose to his feet, then the sound of a door opening and a murmur of voices. "Stay with him Draco. Once he has this out of his system he will require a muscle relaxant and a pain potion. I am going to go brew them now. It will take me approximately three hours and twelve minutes to do so. You are not to leave his side. You will send a house elf to me immediately if he worsens." A hesitation, then the feeling of a hand gently resting on his tousled head before a muttered, "he seems to enjoy a cool cloth on his forehead and cheeks."

"Harry?" Draco's voice was sympathetic. Harry groaned, pulled himself up weakly, and threw up again. He feverishly decided that all he wanted for his birthday and Christmas for the rest of his life was for someone to sit with him just like this when he was sick. He wasn't aware he had murmured that thought out loud until he heard Draco chuckle and felt a soft kiss press lightly against his clammy forehead. Harry groaned again, pressed himself more fully against the blissfully cool floor, and dozed off with his arms wrapped protectively around his unsettled stomach.

He woke up shivering.

Harry blinked, opening his eyes slowly as his aching body protested movement of any sort. He was laying on… a bathroom floor? He wrinkled his nose in disgust. That explained the sour taste in his mouth and the hollow feeling in his head. Damn, he knew he had been anxious about his expulsion hearing, but he could have sworn he only drank Butterbeer at his impromptu victory party. Unless… no, no he was fairly certain he hadn't touched a single thing the twins had offered him. Plus, with Hermione, Molly, and Mad Eye hanging around, Fred and George had been reasonably well behaved. Hmm. Maybe Sirius had slipped something to him as a lark? Harry nodded, winced, and rubbed his temple grimly. He loved his Godfather, but a Marauder was inevitably a Marauder.

Cautiously turning his head, Harry blinked again, feeling his heart constrict painfully. His clothes were too small. And the bathroom was too, too, sanitary, and shiny, for him to be at Grimmauld Place. And Draco Malfoy was dozing propped up against the wall. Had Dumbledore decided he was too much of a risk and sent him back to the Dursley's? After that 'Best Lawn' ploy, Harry knew he would not be welcomed back by his family. He got to his feet slowly, quietly, mindful not to wake his uncle, and grabbed his toothbrush before staggering out of the room on auto pilot. He felt naked without his wand. There it was, on the side table next to the bed. Along with clean clothes draped across a chair.

He changed automatically, wincing as he forced his body to move in something resembling coordination. Damn he hurt. What the fuck did he do last night? Giving his hazy recollections up as a lost cause, Harry eased himself down onto the comfortable bed, lazily swiping his toothbrush around his mouth. He really should get up and rinse properly, but holy hell – he felt like he'd been mauled by a Hippogriff. No, it was a much better idea to lie here than to risk having to deal with the Dursley's. He relaxed gratefully, his toothbrush slipping out of his fingers and landing on the carpet with a soft thud.

Green eyes flew open. Draco Malfoy was dozing propped up against the wall in the bathroom. He was lying on a comfortable bed and wearing a silk shirt. He was definitely not at the Dursley's, and there was no WAY Sirius or the twins would prank him like this. Where WAS he? Harry stood up slowly, gritting his teeth against the weakness and vertigo, gripping his wand tightly as he took a shaky step towards the bathroom. His wand. Oh God this wasn't his wand. Harry stared at the unfamiliar wand in his hand, watching as it shook in response to his increased trembling. WHERE was his wand? Had he stumbled away from the protection of the wards at some point last night? Had Voldemort caught him? Did he hurt because he had been forced to partake in another dark ritual; this time with Draco Malfoy? What the Hell kind of self respecting Dark Lord would perform a dark ritual in a bathroom?

"Harry?" He froze; looking up in alarm as the blond in question hurried out of the bathroom. Draco stopped dead, eying Harry as intently as Harry was eying him. "Harry," he breathed again, a smile brightening his face. He took a hesitant step forward.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Harry watched Draco's body fall to the floor. Now what? He absently rubbed at his temple. What had Voldemort done to him to make him feel guilty and ashamed for cursing Malfoy? He needed to get out of here.

Slowly, cautiously, he poked his head out the open bedroom door and ventured into the hallway, gripping his newly procured wand tightly. Thank God Malfoy was a stupid git. Didn't he know how dangerous it was to leave his wand in the other room? After Cedric… well, Harry wasn't taking any chances. He could only hope that wherever this place was, it was warded strongly and wouldn't register the spell he had just cast. After all, if Fudge was going to try him for defending himself against a Dementor, he would probably cart Harry off to Azkaban without a trial for attacking a Malfoy. Reaching the front door, Harry hesitated, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants before cautiously opening it. He waited, hardly daring to breathe, for alarms to go off. He wasn't sure whether he was relieved or disappointed when nothing happened. Of course, right now he was too confused and sore to be angry. It was a welcome change of emotion.

He ran down the driveway in an awkward Frankenstein impersonated lumber, cursing his weak and sore body with every breath he took. He bent over at last, breathing harshly and sweating, before summoning the night bus. Stan Shuntpike beamed at Harry, waiving off the fee in exchange for the great service Harry had performed. Harry was too bewildered and in far too much pain to follow the conversation properly. He was simply thankful that Stan helped him onto a bed, and then helped him to stand again moments later when the triple decker bus screeched into Grimmauld Place. Exhausted, Harry limply shook Ernie and Stan's hands, muttered an indecipherable stream of 'thank you' and 'you're welcome' and staggered to the front door.

"Hello?"

The air felt different. Stale. And the house felt empty. No one answered his call. Where was everyone? Fresh guilt slammed into Harry along with the answer. They were out looking for him. Obviously, getting captured by Malfoy was somehow his fault. Miserably, Harry settled himself on the lumpy couch in the living room, waiting for someone to arrive, wishing he had a way of contacting Sirius or Moony to let them, at least, know he was all right. More guilt welled up, along with a few tears, at the thought of how worried Hermione and Ron and Molly probably were. Should he catch the Knight Bus again and head to the Burrow? To Hogwarts? No, Dumbledore wouldn't even look at him during his trial. And after he had somehow managed to get himself captured… best not to risk incurring additional wrath.

Harry curled up tighter on the couch while he waited; eventually falling asleep. For once he didn't dream about the graveyard or Cedric. Instead he dreamed of playing with soft blond hair, waking up to the smell of coffee and fresh pastries, playing in the snow, and purple flames. He jerked awake, feeling stiff and unsettled. Distractedly wiping tears off his face. A niggling of anxiety crawled across his chest when he realized he was actually worried about whether or not Malfoy would be in trouble for enabling him to escape. A noise across the room had him snapping to attention, a guilty smile and apology on the tip of his tongue. Harry froze, heart sinking, trying to back further into the cushion of the couch, as the image of Severus Snape sitting in a chair drinking tea burned itself into his brain. He noticed another cup of tea, gently steaming, placed within arms reach of Harry along with two potions vials. Was the man going to poison him for leaving the house?

"I imagine you feel satisfied with yourself right about now," his teacher drawled. "After all, incapacitating an unarmed student and leaving a warded manor with no grace or stealth is not too difficult a task to master. Wouldn't you agree?" A single eyebrow rose in an imitation of polite curiosity.

Harry flushed; opening and closing his mouth several times without managing to produce a sound. His anxiety increased when he realized that the usual rush of anger and hatred that accompanied seeing Snape was notably absent. What the hell was going on? Had the world gone mad? Finally, defensively, he managed to ask the one question he most wanted answered.

"Where's Sirius?"

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So.. I know I promised another Ravenclaw moment, but this chapter worked so much better with me ending it here. So it will be at the end of the next chapter. Along with my first ever Huffelpuff moment. Le gasp!

Thoughts?


	17. Awkward Transition

Holy hell guys, I'm sorry for the delay in posting. With all the crap that was going on, my muse up and died on this story for awhile. But it's back now, and safely locked up in the corner. Then, I had this and next chapter completed, but... curious little girls + laptops missing files and massive frustration. (sigh) But anyways, if anyone is still reading this story, please know I love you mucho and should ahve the next chap finished by the end of the week :)

HDHDHD

Snape went very, very still; gazing at Harry impassively before dropping his eyes to his tea cup. Harry watched him nervously; wondering precisely what he had done to put that look on his teacher's face. Snape seemed reluctant to answer him. Almost afraid that whatever he said would upset Harry in some way… and that he was reluctant to do so. "Sir?" he asked tentatively.

"What is the last memory you have, Harry, before waking up at the Malfoy's?"

Harry blinked. He'd been at Malfoy Manor? Well, that certainly explained why Draco had been there then. Harry frowned. Draco? Since when did he start thinking about the blond as Draco? He shook his head; maybe Snape knew what Voldemort had cursed him with to make him suddenly feel so compassionate towards someone who had deliberately set out to make his life miserable. Speaking of… he'd been lost in thought for awhile now. Why wasn't Snape yelling at him? Or berating his intelligence? And... Harry blinked again. "You called me Harry?"

A slight nod in agreement. "Answer the question."

"Oh…err…right. Umm. Yesterday. I remember yesterday, when I had to go to the hearing at the ministry." Snape stiffened, causing Harry to finish his explanation slightly defensively. "I wasn't expelled." Snape nodded absently, reaching up to stroke his chin, looking lost in thought. Harry shifted, uncomfortable with the silence, and looked around the quiet room. "So, umm, where is Sirius?"

Snape's eyes narrowed. "At the ministry," he said smoothly.

Alarm slammed into Harry, causing his chest to tighten with fear. "Did they catch him? Can Dumbledore help him? Why did he leave the house?"

Black eyes watched Harry closely as Snape remained silent until Harry's rapid questioning ceased. "I can assure you, Mr. Potter, that no Auror or ministry official will attempt to go where Black is." Harry waited; knowing there had to be more to it than that. "Black left the security of these premises to assist you. Dumbledore is aware of Black's location, as are you in a sense."

"Can I go see him?"

"No."

A frustrated hiss. "Why not?" His professor's eyes narrowed at the tone of voice. "Sir," Harry hastily amended.

Snape looked at Harry again, continuing to absently stroke his chin. Harry waited, trying his best not to scowl or fidget. "You had a bit of an accident, Harry."

"An accident?" He nodded to himself, expression turning grim as his worst fears were realized. "So it's true then? Voldemort caught me and cursed me? Is that why I was at Malfoy Manor? Is that why Sirius left the house?"

Harry knew instinctively that something was wrong by the way Snape hesitated before answering. He wanted to jump up and throttle the man, but something whispered to him in the back of his mind; telling him not to crumble under pressure; to either fake his way through it or demand assistance. Harry looked at Snape contemplatively. He really didn't think anyone had ever demanded Snape assist them and lived to tell the tale. So he waited, staring into coal colored eyes anxiously but resolutely. It seemed to work as Snape sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and straightened his already straight shoulders. "Harry, your accident did not involve Black. Nor did it, at the time, involve the Dark Lord." Harry felt his stomach clench, but remained silent and attentive. Snape gave him an approving look before continuing. "There was a mishap in Potions. You were turned into a child. For the last three weeks I have been assisting with your care. You were at Malfoy Manor because I do not feel Hogwarts is safest for your rather unique needs. I demand you trust my decision."

"You demand…" Harry paused, mind whirling as he tried to process what he had been told. He had been turned into a child? "But school's over," he muttered out loud. "There was the Tri-Wizard Tournament, then Cedric… well, Moony brought me here. If Voldemort didn't poison me in the graveyard, then how did this happen? And why are you the one taking care of me? Why not Sirius? Or was I poisoned and you're the only one who can save me? I get Hogwarts not being safe for me, since Voldemort probably really wants me dead and had me attacked by Dementors and all, but why Padfoot can't…" Absently he reached up and rubbed his temple. "I'm a little confused."

"I imagine you're also sore." Snape ignored all of Harry's questions, gesturing instead to the two vials sitting beside the boy. "Those will help you feel better. Drink them down, finish your tea, and then I will enlighten you as best I can before we return to Malfoy Manor."

Harry, who had responded instinctively to Snape's commanding tone of voice, blanched and froze with his hand clenched around one of the bottles. "Return to Malfoy Manor? Why the fuck would I do that? I want to stay here!"

"You may _not_ stay here, Harry. No one is staying here at present, and I do not feel that remaining alone in a home filled with dark relics is the wisest choice for you."

"But why can't I go back to Hogwarts? Dumbledore…" Harry trailed off, remembering the way his headmaster had not so much as looked at him throughout the summer or during his trial.

Snape smirked slightly. "Exactly. Dumbledore." He paused slightly. "Harry, if you do not trust me as an individual, do you at least trust me, on some level, as a Potions Master?"

"I, I don't," Harry rubbed his scar. "Yes?" he answered hesitantly. "Yes," he repeated with more conviction. "You've never deliberately tried to kill me with potions."

"What a glowing endorsement," he replied dryly. "Harry, I believe you're susceptible to something called Idiopathic Environmental Intolerance. When you had your… accident, you were reverted to such a young age because your system simply could not process the strain on your system. At every age you have been, I have collected blood samples and tested them. I am close to discovering precisely which chemicals remain in your system, but will need to examine your blood at your present age in order to follow my vein of research."

"You," Harry blinked. "Oh." His brow furrowed as he thought about all that. "Wait. You said at my present age? What do you mean by that?"

Snape sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose again. "A lingering effect of your accident. Judging by your present memories, you have yet to return to your correct age of sixteen."

"Sixteen?" Harry gaped at his professor. "I'm not sixteen."

"I assure you that you are. You are presently enrolled in your sixth year of schooling. Now drink your potions and we will return to Malfoy Manor to complete your testing."

Harry drank the potions automatically; his mind whirling. "Wait." Snape inclined an eyebrow questioningly. "Wait. If I should be at school, then why was Dr – Malfoy at the house with me?"

"Young Mr. Malfoy elected to remain at home to reassure you and make sure you were adequately taken care of." Snape hesitated. "He has been one of your primary caregivers."

"Malfoy was?" Harry asked in shock. "Why not Ron and Hermione? Where are they?"

"It's four thirty in the morning, Harry. I presume they are at Hogwarts. I refuse to answer any more questions until we are in a safer location."

Harry nodded dazedly, automatically standing up and following Snape as he grabbed his empty tea cup, muttered "Portus," and prepared to depart.

Shortly before he reached for the cup, however, Harry paused and looked at his teacher uncertainly. "Sir? If I had an accident, and school is in session, then why are you the one coming to collect me?"

Black eyes lit up with wicked humor. "Why, Harry; because you made me your family, of course." Taking Harry's hand in his, he stated, "Philotes," and they vanished from Grimmauld Place.

HDHDHD

The manor was ablaze with light when they arrived in the library. Harry looked around the room, instinctively grateful that Draco was nowhere in sight, before he noticed Narcissa and Lucius standing nearby. He took a half step closer to Snape before he realized what he was doing.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter," Narcissa greeted politely; as though entertaining guests in her robe at four thirty in the morning was a standard affair. "I presume you are quite tired by this point. If you would be so good as to follow me," she gestured towards the doors leading out into the hall; "I will lead you to your room."

Harry looked at Snape uncertainly, feeling exhausted, confused, and completely overwhelmed. His only choices were between his dreaded Potions Master and the family of a man that had actively tried to kill him. Great. "It's all right, Harry." Snape placed a heavy hand on Harry's shoulder. "Go with Narcissa. There are a few things I need to discuss with Lucius. I will find you in time for breakfast."

Reluctantly, he moved away from the security of his teacher and towards the Malfoy's. Lucius smirked at him before he left the library with Narcissa. "Pleasant dreams."

The silence between the two was awkward at best. Harry felt as though he should say something, but what was one realistically supposed to say to the wife of a Death Eater? He winced slightly. Especially after hexing her son and fleeing from their… hospitality. "Erm. Thank you for letting me stay, I guess. I'm sorry I hexed Mal – Draco."

"Quite all right." Narcissa smoothed the front of her robe as she glided down the hall. "No one blames you for your reaction upon waking. It has already been explained that your memory will be slightly shoddy after your transition." Harry nodded, relaxing slightly as he followed her. A slight noise up ahead had him looking up; watching a blond head disappear through a door before it clicked softly into place. Narcissa smiled softly. "We are all trying to make this as easy as possible for you."

"Is he very mad at me?" He couldn't fathom precisely why it was important that Draco not hate him, only that it was.

"Your journal is on the nightstand;" Narcissa answered instead.

"My journal? I don't keep a journal."

"Perhaps not usually," she agreed smoothly, "but your friends decided it would be best for you to remember this experience once it became clear that you were struggling. Therefore, a journal was started for you." Narcissa smiled in amusement. "As a ten year old, you were quite adamant that the book must be written in daily, lest your beloved Mione grow concerned."

Harry blushed, reaching up to absently rub at his scar. "Yes, well." He cleared his throat. "She's my best friend, and all."

"Indeed. I was merely suggesting you might find the contents illuminating." They continued their walk through the hall in silence. Narcissa stopped in front of a solid cherry wood door and gestured. "Your room, Harry Potter."

He inclined his head slightly; uncertain if he could ask her to leave him alone in her own house. The house in which he was, apparently, a guest for the time being. Before he could quite formulate a sentence, however, Narcissa gracefully leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Sleep well." She smiled softly. "I'm so pleased you elected to remain with us."

Confused green eyes watched the lady of the manor walk down the hallway. "Good night," he belatedly called; smiling bemusedly.

Harry opened his door, saw Nagini curled up on the bed, and screamed.

HDHDHD

Unable to sleep in such an unfamiliar environment, Harry gave up tossing and turning and elected, instead, to scan the journal on the bedside table. The contents were definitely illuminating, to say the least, and he was having a hard time comparing the Slytherins he thought he knew to the Slytherins on display in the book before him. Hours later, Nagini slithered out to find a snack and a tentative knock alerted him to the presence of another. Harry lifted his head from his book and groaned silently. Draco. Malfoy. Standing uncertainly in the doorway to his room. "Tea?"

It took him a moment to process the question. "Oh, err," he blushed, closing his journal and shifting over slightly on the bed. "Sure. Thank you."

Draco entered Harry's room cautiously. "It's chamomile, with Hibiscus and Rose Hips." He handed Harry the cup and clenched and unclenched his hands. "It will help you relax and stay healthy."

Harry took a cautious sip. "It's good," he said, surprised. "Thank you." Draco nodded, sitting lightly on the edge of the bed. A heavy silence fell between the two of them. "So," Harry cleared his throat and tried again. "So about this morning…

"It's ok," Draco interrupted. "I understand better than you'd think I would." He smiled tentatively. "I imagine you were a bit perturbed to wake up on the bathroom floor next to me." Draco frowned, shaking his head slightly. "I'm sorry I fell asleep. I could have helped answer your questions, or told you what was going on, or," he smirked, "defended myself from your heinous attack."

Harry blinked. "It was a simple spell any first year could have done."

"I prefer my version."

"You would," Harry snorted. It was weird, he reflected, sitting here with Draco Malfoy. Talking. Joking. Acting like… friends, almost. He ran his fingers over the smooth cover of the journal. Karma really was a bitch sometimes. "Que Sera Sera," he spoke aloud, smiling ruefully.

Draco's eyebrows rose incredulously. "Pardon?"

"What will be will be." Harry smiled fully. "It's a song made popular by a woman named Doris Day." He shrugged, feeling suddenly embarrassed for knowing this. "My aunt liked her," he mumbled to the carpet.

"Oh." Draco looked unsure how to proceed with this information. "A popular Muggle," he mused. "She must have been attractive and wealthy."

"That's not it. I mean, I'm sure she was rich and stuff, but she was a good person with a lot of talent." He looked up from the carpet, smiling weakly. "Least I didn't sing 'Don't Eat The Daisies,' or anything."

"Why wouldn't you want to eat daisies?" Draco looked confused. "They're cousins to chamomile. The leaves and flowers are edible, and several potions and tonics and teas are made from them to relax the bronchials, ease pain from ulcers, and act as an antispasmodic for colic and general digestive upset."

"That's not what I… never mind." They lapsed into awkward silence again. Harry smiled crookedly. "We don't really know what to say to each other when we're not fighting, do we?"

Draco brightened. "Actually, we have gotten along quite well for the last month now."

"Yeah, but I was a kid." Harry reached out and picked up his journal again. "Us getting along constituted me writing numbers and letters and getting slobbered over by many different people." He flipped through his book, glancing at a sentence here and there, smiling as he noticed Hermione's neat handwriting intermixed with sloppy scrawls, childish printing, and the odd inappropriate drawing or two. Harry laughed out loud as a particular annotation caught his attention. "You played Football?"

"A highly uncivilized sport, I assure you."

"You played Football!" Harry repeated; laughing at the mental picture.

"Well what do you expect? Your friends are uncultured and simple. They found the sport to be vastly entertaining."

"Wait." Harry stood up, tapping his journal against his palm as he walked back and forth. "You played Football?"

Draco sighed. "Must you continuously repeat that one phrase? I would actually like to talk to you. I became accustomed to talking with you on a daily basis and find myself missing your company."

"But why?" Harry paced, frustrated. He had woken up this morning on a bathroom floor with Draco Malfoy propped up nearby. Then… he shook his head, pressing his palm against his scar in a lame attempt to force an understanding of his conversation with Snape. Family? And now… now he finds out that not only did Draco take care of him and protect him as a child, he had done so willingly. And missed talking to him. And wasn't mad over the fact that Harry's instinctive reaction upon waking as a teenager was to hex the blond senseless. No, Harry thought, turning to face the nervous boy with narrowed eyes. No… he wasn't mad. He was… sad? Disappointed?

Genuinely puzzled, Harry asked aqain; softer than he had before. "Why Mal – Draco? Why would you take care of me? Why would you risk your life to help me?"

"I," Draco faltered, biting his lip. "You were just a child, Harry. Just a child. I couldn't hate a baby." Draco blushed, smiling sheepishly. "You were all big green eyes and messy hair; just a little boy afraid of being hurt who wanted to have friends and not be treated like an unwanted accessory. And you liked me. And snakes. It was easy to like you back."

Harry frowned, watching Draco closely. "No," he said decisively. "No, if that were it, you would have left me with Pomphrey or Ron and Hermione. Why did you stay?" Draco blanched. Harry looked at his journal, then back at the blond. "Why did you buy me a present and comfort me when I was scared? Why did you let me sleep in your bed and give me a pet? Why Draco?"

"I," Draco looked decidedly uncomfortable. "We didn't want to be Death Eaters. We thought that by showing you we could be friendly too, that you would protect us during the war."

Harry nodded. Then shook his head. "No, no I don't buy that. I would have helped you even if I didn't trust you because I didn't want to kill any more students than I absolutely had to during the war. Why did you stay?"

"I," Draco shifted uncomfortably.

"Will you stop saying that and answer the bloody question!"

Gray eyes flared angrily. Harry smirked, pleased by this sign of Draco's former attitude. He didn't quite know what to do with a clearly uncomfortable Draco who tugged on his heart strings. "Fine," Draco snapped. He marched up to Harry, poking the Gryffindor in the chest angrily. "You want to know why I stayed close to you? Why I kept helping you?" Harry nodded warily. Draco was yelling now; his pale face flushed with emotion. "Because I love you! I think! I think I love you!" And then Draco did something Harry never imagined he would do.

He leaned forward and kissed him. Harry froze; his hands instinctively flying up to Draco's shoulders to push him slightly away. Shocked gray eyes met bewildered green before Draco took a cautious half step away. "I didn't mean to do that," Draco whispered.

Harry opened and closed his mouth several times, waiting for cohesive speech to come back to him. He had wanted to get the blond to admit that he wanted to be Harry's friend. He wanted Draco to acknowledge that on some level he cared about what happened to him. He hadn't expected a declaration of love. Harry was shocked. His mind was whirling, his breathing was erratic, and still… still he couldn't stop looking at Draco. So, in his defense, he did the only thing he could think to do.

He fainted.

Draco stared down at the boy lying prone on the carpet. What on earth had possessed him to do that! Especially when he wasn't at all certain Harry felt _anything_ for him. For all he knew, Harry wouldn't even remember this conversation once he returned to age sixteen. This suddenly seemed like a horrific likelihood. "Great," he sighed. Irritably. So, in his defense, he did the only thing _he_ could think to do.

He fled. And went to write a desperate letter to Pansy.

HDHDHD

For all the Ravenclaws: What is Idiopathic Environmental Intolerance?

And for all the closet Hufflepuffs hiding in the bushes: Who is Philotes?


	18. Transition Completed?

Harry!

You're back! But are you really? Pansy went absolutely spare when she got Draco's letter. Started muttering about him acting like a damn Gryffindor and disappeared to respond to him. But Blaise got it out of her that you had aged again. Not quite back to sixteen, but getting there. Are you hurting? I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you, but Dumbledore is being appallingly rigid when it comes to you. Course, I could ask for permission to go visit you, but that would alert him to the fact that you're not ten anymore. And I _know_ Professor Snape wants to keep you away from Hogwarts until you're not quite so vulnerable. Oh… Blaise has just told me that this weekend is a Hogsmead weekend! Blaise, Greg, Vince, Pansy, and I will all sneak out on the Knight Bus and come visit you tomorrow. Bril!

I can just see you there, in your room, muttering about how this is just one more abnormal thing that has happened to you. Stop that right now! No one could predict this would happen, and, believe it or not, you have been truly happy with us. Well, there _was_ that one unfortunate incident in the Hospital Wing, but its best not to dwell on that. Read your journal, it explains everything. Has anyone talked to you about… recent events? Sirius? Harry, I know this is all just a bit alarming for you, but promise me you won't ask any unnecessary questions until you talk to me. Oh! And avoid the newspaper, too. Rita's been in rare form lately. The bug eyed bitch. I will be there soon, Harry, I promise.

Love always,

Mione

HDHDHD

Harry held the crumpled parchment of Hermione's letter in his fist as he paced back and forth in his bedroom. He felt… weird. Twitchy. Uncomfortable in his own skin. This whole situation had taken on a surrealistic quality that he wasn't quite able to break away from. He had woken up yesterday morning high on endorphins born of relief that he wouldn't be expelled for protecting himself from Dementors. Today… today he is being kissed by Draco Malfoy, eating breakfast with Snape, sleeping at Malfoy Manor, talking to a snake that apparently belonged to him, while his best friend told him not to ask questions and planned to escape from school. And where was Ron? Since when was Hermione on a first name basis with the Slytherins, or even close enough to be around when Pansy received communication from Draco? Malfoy. Whatever.

He glared at the journal lying on the middle of his bed. Ok, so it was supposed to help him understand what he had gone through. He understood the concept. But the reality was different. He felt betrayed. Cheated, almost. And angry. Yep, definitely angry. So he hadn't had the best of childhoods, who could say they had? That didn't mean that _everyone_ had a right to know about his past. But, oh no, younger Harry obviously felt no qualms about talking to his _snakes_ or the Malfoy's about personal issues he had. He groaned, clutching his head in his hands. For gods sakes; he had talked to Snape about his _mother_! What was the matter with him?

And now Snape was collecting samples of his blood, and talking to him like he was an actual person instead of the devil incarnate. Even his body was betraying him! He felt safe, comfortable even, around Snape, and had not hesitated when the man asked for a vial of blood. When Narcissa dropped by during breakfast, he hadn't thought twice about her carding her fingers through his hair and lightly rubbing his back. And Draco? Well, he hadn't seen the blond yet today, but considering he'd _fainted_ the last time they were in the same room… yes, his reactions had definitely changed. How was he supposed to function in this new setting when he didn't have the slightest feeling of control over his environment? He knew the rules… the Dursley's sucked, Hogwarts and the Burrow were his real homes, his enemies were his enemies, and Ron and Hermione were his best friends. But… but now that the rules were changed, what was he supposed to do?

HDHDHD

"You did what?"

Draco winced at the censure, real or imagined, in Pansy's tone. "You heard me."

Silence. "So, Har Bear returns to being a teenager, hexes the shit out of you, flees for his life, is returned under the dubious protection of his teacher to a family that has openly disdained him for years, and you think the proper welcome is to declare undying love for him?"

He paced, trying to ignore the creepy way her green face glared at him through the Floo. "It wasn't undying love."

"Draco Malfoy!"

"Well it wasn't!" He jerked his hand through his hair, a frustrated gesture so synonymous to Harry that Pansy had to fight with her control to keep the smile off her face. "I just. We were talking, and he's _different_! There's something bolder in the way he looks at people, something compelling. And then he was telling me to stop hedging, and he was pushing me away after I kissed him, and then he was lying on the floor and I ran to my room."

Pansy snickered. "He passed out and you just left him on the floor?"

"Well what was I supposed to do?"

She sighed. "Draco, I've been your friend since we were babies. I've watched you preen and posture…"

"I do not…"

"Shut up. You do. You're a right snarky bastard with self esteem issues." She smiled into his glaring face. "But I love you like the brother I never wanted. Nobody knows better than I do that once your emotions are involved you turn into a complete Gryffindor. And that needs to stop for now." The stern look accompanying that statement was only slightly diminished by the flickering flames. "Hermione and I have speculated that Harry has had a crush on you since he was a kid. You were just too much of a prick and scared him off."

"Thanks." He slumped into a chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and scowled.

"Any time, darling. But Harry doesn't really remember what's going on. Last time he changed ages he was surrounded by all of us in the Hospital Wing and he _still_ didn't know what was going on. But this time he doesn't have Fawkes to murmur platitudes in his ear. He's trying to wing it and it's going to take a bit of time for him to connect his dreams with his reality."

"So, what?" he asked unhappily. "I ignore him completely?"

Pansy smiled kindly. "That's the crux of the problem Draco. You've never been able to ignore each other." She took a deep breath, hating to be the one to say this. "You need to stop and think about what you're doing."

"I am! I do!"

"But you don't; not when you're upset. If you did, you wouldn't have landed half the detentions you have had over the years, and Harry wouldn't have thought you were the greatest thing since Ricin." Draco sulked but remained quiet. "You need to remember that you are a Slytherin. You're loyal. Crafty. Cunning. Ambitious. You know how to size up a room of three hundred people and determine which are threats, allies, potential victims, or utterly expendable. You do _not_ go running out of a room like a Hufflepuff because you forgot yourself and handed someone the tools to lord their power over you."

Draco sat quietly, absorbing this. Pansy shifted slightly, glanced over her shoulder briefly, but remained quiet and let him think it out. He sighed finally, nodding. "You're right."

"Of course I am. I'm always right. It's about time you learned to appreciate that fact."

He raked his hand through his hair again. "So what do I do?"

Pansy sighed at the defeated look in his eyes, but hardened her spine and gave him a teasing smile. "First, you take a sleeping draught and rest. You look like hell. Then take a long shower and groom yourself accordingly. Harry may now have the knowledge that you love him, but you need to accept that and act like you planned to let him know about that all along. If you act nervous or whiny or in any way other than accepting, he's going to pounce on you."

Draco frowned. "Harry wouldn't do that."

One eyebrow lifted in response. "Sweet little Gryffindor Harry wouldn't, no," she agreed. "The clingy five year old that jumped on your bed might, though. The precocious ten year old who told Dumbledore to shut up might, though. The teenager, who woke up in Malfoy Manor, recognized the setting as a potential threat, disarmed the 'enemy' and managed to flee, might, though."

"Oh fuck." Draco closed his eyes and leaned his head against the arm of the chair wearily. "We turned him into a Slytherin."

"No," she disagreed. "He was always a little bit Slytherin, just like you've always been a little bit Gryffindor." She shrugged. "We simply helped him shed his golden lining." Her expression tightened slightly. "You know I love you. I have told you that often over the years, and have never had cause to fear you would hold that over my head. Yes?" Draco nodded. Pansy smiled slightly. "Play by the rules that have helped us survive all these years. It shouldn't take longer than a day or two for Harry's dreams to transport him back into our reality. So back off, remember who you are, and get to know Harry on this new level."

"For how long?"

"Until you can tell him you love him without feeling overly exposed," she answered simply. Pansy glanced over her shoulder again. "I have to go. Write me tonight and keep me informed."

He nodded, sighing. "I will. I do love you too, you know?" Pansy smiled. "Hey," he asked curiously. "How were you able to Floo call me?"

She shrugged. "I'm in detention. Crabbe's standing guard while Goyle led Professor McGonagall to the bathroom where some poor first year was accidentally shoved into a toilet."

Draco snorted. "You're the best Pansy."

"Of course I am." She smiled sweetly at her friend. "I'm a Slytherin." Pansy blew him a kiss and vanished from sight.

HDHDHD

Harry remained in his room all the rest of Friday. Snape and Narcissa came and joined him for lunch; an awkward period of semi-forced conversation and mutual observation. Of Draco, there was no sign at all. After waiting approximately thirty minutes for his food to digest, Snape muttered an apology, took one final sample of Harry's blood, and then put him to sleep. Harry woke up stretching like a cat, rubbing his cheek against the glorious softness of the sheets, feeling inexplicably happy and safe and protected. Dreamily opening his eyes he paused, heart skipping a beat as he realized he felt safe and rested and warm in Malfoy Manor. Being hovered over by Severus Snape. "Karma really is a bitch," he mused.

Black eyes lit up with laughter. "Indeed, Mr. Potter.

Harry flushed, unaware he had spoken aloud. He sat up, pleasantly surprised when his muscles didn't protest or twinge the movement. "I feel better," he said in surprise.

Snape nodded. "As well you should. You took a pain and muscle relaxant potion before we left Grimmauld Place, and I added yet another pain relieving formula to the sleeping draught I fed you after lunch." He smirked at the slightly uncomfortable way Harry was fidgeting. "Go take a shower," he urged, turning towards the door. "You'll feel better. I'll be up in a bit with dinner."

It felt good to shower, like he hadn't had a shower in quite awhile. He lingered; enjoying the sense of privacy, the lack of angry voices bellowing on the other side of the door, the inexplicable feeling of safety he felt being here. It wasn't until he stepped out of the shower that he realized he didn't have any clean clothes. He looked around uncertainly… stopping abruptly when he realized he was looking for a cubbyhole of clothes. Harry's breathing sped up, that creepy feeling of déjà vu hitting him again, making his muscles feel weak and stripping away his defenses. Had he done this before? He shook off the sensation, swearing softly as he realized he was trembling. There were clothes waiting for him next to the bathroom sink.

He put them on quickly, shoving his legs into pants and trousers, wanting to not feel so damned vulnerable and exposed. He paused, though, once he picked up the shirt. The fabric felt nice under his hands, a familiar smell rising up and making him smile. It reminded him of another memory: one of the few times he felt safe as a child… The smile fled as swiftly as it had bloomed. But it wasn't a memory. Not really. Because it was associated with… Draco. Harry blinked, staring at the shirt in his hands. The shirt smelled like Draco. The clothes were Draco's. And they made him happy, and relaxed, and reminded him of being… safe. Loved? He put the shirt on with fumbling fingers. This fucking inconsistency in reality was slowly driving him insane.

He got through dinner somehow. He could sense Snape's concern over how jumpy he was acting. But how could he relax, Harry wondered. How _could_ he, when his eyes kept straying to the door waiting for someone, for Draco, to appear. How could he relax when he took a bite of raspberry cheesecake; and thought he heard someone laughing and calling him Amico, and eating pastries in bed, while the smell of deodorant and laundry detergent mixed with sleepy boy and fresh coffee permeated the air.

How could he relax, he asked himself later, as he struggled to fall asleep, when he felt this inexplicable sense of loss. He didn't miss Ron's snoring, that was for damn sure, but there was something… a feminine giggle from across the room, a feeling of warmth against the back of his neck, being reassured that he was safe and no one could enter or leave the room without knowledge. Was that it? Frowning, Harry got out of bed, crossed the room, and locked the door. He stood there for a minute, feeling stupid, before unlocking it again and crawling back into bed. No, that wasn't it. He rolled over, onto his stomach, determinedly closing his eyes while his fingers splayed and reached for that same elusive something that he knew he kept under his pillow.

His breath left him in a gasp as a sob welled up in his throat and choked him. Something was missing. Something was not right. Hot tears slid down his face. Is this what his life was going to be like from now on? Feeling like his reality was a lie? That he had lost something precious and wonderful and vital during the course of this accident? He couldn't handle it. He couldn't breathe. All he could do was lie there, hating himself, as he cried himself into an exhausted but restless sleep. It wasn't until much much later, when he cried out and a hand softly pressed against his hair, that Harry fully relaxed and drifted into dreams.

He woke up knowing there was someone in bed with him. Surprisingly, this knowledge made him happy; and it was with a gentle smile on his face that he opened his eyes. His smile slipped slightly, green eyes widening in shock as he swiftly sat up. "Hermione?"

She squealed, launching herself at him. "Oh Harry! You're back you're back you're back! Well, not really, not yet," she pulled away slightly to beam into his face. "But you're getting there! Oh, Harry I'm so glad to see you!" With another squeal, she buried her face in his neck and promptly burst into tears.

"I thought Pansy said only foolish girls squealed?" a confused voice asked.

"Maybe it was simply a loud exclamation of surprise," a different voice offered.

"You boys are completely mental," a feminine voice observed.

"I know you are not calling my Cucciola Mia a foolish girl," a slightly accented voice calmly interjected.

"You all have serious issues," Draco retorted.

Harry smiled; he could practically see the amused smile on Draco's face. He frowned just as swiftly; since when did he know what Draco's voice sounded like when he smiled? Turning his head carefully to the right, he gaped when he saw something he had never quite imagined. Crabbe and Goyle were sitting on the desk, swinging their legs. Parkinson sat in the chair, filing her nails, looking bored, while Zabini leaned against the wall next to Draco with his arms folded across his chest. All of them looked at him and smiled. Goyle waved. Feeling utterly out of his element, Harry pinched Hermione.

"Ow!" she pulled back, rubbing her side lightly. "Why'd you…" she trailed off, a conflicted expression briefly crossing her face. Wiping away her tears, she smiled and gestured. "Harry, this is Vince, Greg, and Pansy." Greg waved again, Vince smiled and nodded, and Pansy smirked and studied him with a crafty expression. "That's my boyfr... err… that's Blaise." The Italian boy gave Hermione an amused smile and winked at him. "And you know Draco, of course." Draco nodded at him, gray eyes conflicted. For some reason, Harry flushed and looked away.

Hermione smoothed his hair, smiling fully. "I suppose you have quite a few questions, huh Har Bear?"

Harry jerked his head up. "What did you call me?"

"She called you Har Bear," Greg offered cheerfully. "We've been calling you that since you were a baby."

"Since I was a…" he trailed off, trying to ignore that same nagging feeling of loss that had plagued him last night. "Oh."

"Sorry." Hermione looked unaccountable upset. Harry stared at her curiously. "Old habits die hard." She gave him a slightly watery smile. "You were a bit confused when you were ten, as well."

"Oh," Harry said again. A fuzzy thought flashed in his mind. "I thought you were my mum." He gestured to the journal on the night stand. "I wrote it down."

"Well," Pansy declared brightly, standing up and smoothing down her robes. "Not that stagnant conversations aren't fun and all, but I suggest we continue this conversation during breakfast."

Harry again had that weird flash of memory. Someone snuggling him while a sleepy voice ordered him to call his elf. He shook it off, forcing a smile when he saw everyone staring at him in varying degrees of concern. "Erm… yeah. Breakfast sounds great. Excuse me just a sec." He bolted into the bathroom, closing the door behind him and sinking bonelessly down onto the toilet. His hands were shaking. What the _fuck_ was going on? Reading about the fact that he was supposedly friends with Slytherins, and actually _being _friends with said Slytherins were two completely different ideals. And where was Ron? Didn't he care that Harry was vulnerable and confused and at Malfoy Manor. Harry paused, thinking about Hermione's stutter and blush when it came to Zabini. Blaise. Whatever. He frowned. Did Ron even know he wasn't a kid anymore?

"Harry?"

"Just a sec!" He splashed water on his face, took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and walked back into the room. He wondered, very briefly, if he should be concerned over the swelling of relief he felt when he noticed Snape calmly sitting at the transfigured table drinking coffee. Trying not to feel like he was hiding, Harry slunk into a seat between his teacher and Draco. He tuned out the majority of the conversation and nodded at the blond. "Morning."

"Morning," Draco answered just as cautiously.

"Didn't see you around yesterday."

"No." He hesitated. "I didn't think you would want to see me after…" he flushed slightly, fiddling with his coffee cup. "Well, I just didn't think."

Harry nodded, wondering if he was implying a lack of thought over the kiss or over his absence, but refrained from comment. "…and then there was a huge BOOM!, big purple flames and white smoke, and lots of fire!"

He looked over at Greg, startled. "What?"

Vince nodded seriously. "You were on fire for a whole week. We were going to bring you here sooner if Dumbledore didn't do right by you."

Pansy laughed. "Didn't do right by him? For Merlin's sake they weren't having an illicit affair!"

Harry ignored the conversation again, his heart beating loudly in his chest. On fire. Yes, he had read about that. And he remembered it… kind of. Pain. So much pain, and heat, and, and, wrongness. Harry's breath sped up. He felt a cold hand cover his on the table, and flipped his hand over instinctively, twining their fingers together. A second hand, warmer than the other, reached up and began rubbing the back of his neck. "It's all right, Harry," Draco breathed in his ear. Harry shut his eyes, his other hand reaching out to blindly grip Draco's thigh. "They're not mocking you. I promise. We've had time to…process, the happenings. You haven't. It's perfectly all right to react this way." Harry shivered, relaxing slightly as Draco's hand continued to rub soothingly on the back of his neck. "Just breathe, Harry. That's it."

It took a moment of forcing himself to concentrate on the hand on his neck, and the hand gripping his in silent support, but eventually his heart rate slowed. Green eyes opened, and blinked, before closing in mortification. He was sitting at the table with Hermione and his….friends?...snakes?...people…holding Snape's hand while Draco soothed him. Flushing again, Harry withdrew his hand from Snape's and smiled hesitantly.

A single eyebrow lifted in response. "We've yet to determine the cause and effects of your panic attacks," he offered quietly. "I think you are now physically and emotionally strong enough to handle the stresses in your life, and your body simply has to learn how to deal with what it has long dismissed."

"Right, err," Harry cleared his throat; grateful the others were still caught up in conversation and hadn't seemed to notice his…lapse. "Thanks for that." Snape nodded.

It wasn't until Draco removed the hand from his neck and placed it over his own that Harry realized he was still gripping Draco's thigh. He blushed again, briefly considering pulling his hand away. But Draco had already picked up his coffee cup and rejoined the conversation while holding his hand, and Harry just didn't see the point. So he sat there, slightly dazed and euphoric, and held hands with his worst enemy while eating breakfast with people who hated him because his name was Harry Potter, while at Malfoy Manor. Right. Why not.

He shrugged and took a bite of toast. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized. Sitting here, he wasn't simply happy and relaxed and safe. He was complete. That nagging sense of loss that had been plaguing him since he woke up in Grimmauld Place was filled. By these people. His self-claimed family. "Who did I piss off in a past lifetime?"

"What's that Harry?" Pansy paused in her conversation and looked at him inquiringly.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing. I was, just, err," flustered, he looked at Snape again.

"He was merely, once again, expressing his dislike for karma." Snape calmly sipped his coffee, smirking at the students.

Harry grinned. "Yep. That was it." Hermione looked between the two suspiciously, before pulling Pansy back into conversation. "I want to see it," he interrupted.

"See what?" Blaise broke the silence.

"Where I was on fire," Harry quietly answered. Draco's hand clenched painfully over his. Hermione bit her lip. Pansy exchanged looks with Professor Snape. "Look," Harry raked his hand through his hair in frustration. Pansy smiled slightly. "I can't remember it, but what I do remember… well, it scares me. I start shaking and I panic. I need to see it."

"Not today," Draco ordered quietly.

Harry set his jaw stubbornly. "Yes, today."

"Harry, I really don't think…"

He cu off Hermione's worried exclamation. "I know that! I just," his hand clenched and unclenched on Draco's thigh as he searched for the words. Without prompting, Draco brought his hand back up and rubbed his neck again. "Look," Harry tried again, calmer. "I think I need to do this. I think it will help me." He looked at Snape again.

Black eyes stared intently into green for a long minute. Hermione opened her mouth again, but quieted as Blaise put a gentle arm around her shoulders. At last, Snape nodded once. "Then we will go."

HDHDHD

Luna, of all people, was standing on the steps waiting for them. She smiled brightly, waving energetically, as the group approached. "I've been waiting and waiting!" she bubbled, flinging her arms around Harry for a fierce hug. "Welcome _home_, my friend!"

Harry smiled, patting the clinging girl lightly on the back. "Thanks Luna." He gently detangled himself. "We were just going to see the infirmary."

She nodded knowingly, ignoring Snape's dark look as she linked arms with Harry and joined them. "That could be fun! It's always best to remember the past so as not to repeat mistakes in the future." Luna garnered several odd looks for that remark, but ignored them all as she skipped happily by Harry's side.

The Hospital Wing was still under construction. The separate room Harry vaguely remembered waking up in was no more. The wall had been removed, beds and supplies rearranged, and Madame Pomphrey and some healer he didn't recognize were arguing over a list of some sort. Tonks, Lupin, and Shacklebolt, were there as well; shoulders stooped with exhaustion as they conversed lightly with Dumbledore and McGonagall while scrubbing up the residual spell damage from Harry's… his mind stuttered… fire accident. He had time to wonder why they were scrubbing it by hand when a wave of a wand would have cleaned up the whole mess in one go, when Tonks spotted him and promptly tripped over a bed.

"Wotcher Harry!" she beamed up at him from the floor. "Not feeling particularly flammable today, are you?" Harry felt Draco brush against his side, and smiled tentatively.

"Harry!" Lupin bounded over, grabbing him in a crushing hug. He pulled away to study him, smiling brightly. "You've returned to us! Oh thank heavens!"

"Hey Moony!" Harry grinned, subtly maneuvering out of the mans clutches. He felt Draco lightly grip his hip, and followed the silent summons out of the doorway and into the room. "Yeah, came by for a quick visit to see… err… well," he shrugged. "Just to see I guess."

Lupin frowned at the wording, and at the subtle way the Slytherins had blocked him from Harry. The matronly woman he didn't recognize came bustling over and cupped his face in her palms. "Hello love!" she chirped, scanning his retinas. Without quite knowing how, he found himself led over to a scale and measuring unit. "Well, of course you don't remember me," she continued blithely. "I'm Healer Goldenseal, and, oh, it is just a pleasure to see you again." Harry looked over his shoulder as the woman weighed, measured, and examined him. Draco was watching intently, with narrowed eyes, but smiled reassuringly. Snape split his attention between glaring at the rows of potions behind the woman, glaring at the people in the room with them, and glaring at the silent healer across the room who was gripping her clipboard like a lifeline.

"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry," Madame Pomphrey whispered tearfully. She seemed petrified in place, unable to do anything more than stare at Harry. He didn't quite remember what had happened, but judging by the poisonous looks on his friends'…err… his _snakes'_… faces, it wasn't good. He settled for smiling slightly and nodding in her direction.

Healer Goldenseal looked very pleased with Harry. "Great progress!" she enthused. "You're currently sixty-eight inches and one hundred and ten pounds! A much healthier weight and height to be at!" Harry smiled at the woman, accepting the chocolate frog with a bemused smile.

Pansy eyed the adults and sighed, turning so her back was presented to no one and away from the open door. "Wonder how long until they all come to blows," she mused quietly.

Hermione rested her hand lightly over where her wand lay inside her pocket. "They better stay away from my Har Bear," she retorted grimly.

Blaise smoothed a hand over her curls. "He's not a baby anymore, cara."

She jutted her chin stubbornly. "He's been my baby since I've known him."

Vince jutted his chin out stubbornly. "Doesn't matter. He's ours. Draco said so." He turned, seeking confirmation. "Right?"

Draco nodded, keeping his eyes trained on Harry. "Absolutely."

Greg looked around the room. "We can take 'em," he stated confidently. Shouting broke out across the room.

"Less than five minutes," Pansy smirked.

"But he is no longer a child!" Professor McGonagall looked indignant. "He no longer needs the same level of medical or professional attention. He should be returned to Hogwarts immediately!"

Dumbledore looked between his furious teachers, tense students, silent Harry, and sighed; raising his hands pleadingly. "Now Minerva…"

"No!" she shouted furiously. "You have thwarted me every time! This situation has grown completely out of proportion! Harry will remain in Gryffindor house and that's that!"

"Harry is not safe at school," black eyes promised pain. "He will not be safe until I figure out precisely how to stabilize his immune system!"

"Bull shit!" Remus spoke up. "If Harry needs to remain someplace safer than Hogwarts, then he should be with his family!"

"Precisely! Mr. Potter will stay with me!" Snape roared, black eyes flashing dangerously. Dumbledore put a restraining hand on the Potions Master's chest as he strained towards Lupin. "Stay out of this, old man. It's _because_ of those filthy Muggles you put his with that…"

Moony swelled with indignant fury. "He's my best friend's son!" he shouted. "I am better able to look after him than anyone!"

"Now really!" Healer Goldenseal thrust Harry away from the adults and closer to his friends. Luna placed a protective hand on his arm. Draco, Pansy, and Hermione withdrew their wands, narrowed eyes indicating a desire to fight. "This shouting and struggle for dominance is getting us nowhere! Control yourselves at once!"

"Oh really?" Snape ignored the healer, his tone dripping with scorn as he addressed the man desperately trying to attack him. "Look after him how? By regaling him with tales of his dead parents? Or perhaps explaining why you disappeared from his life for twelve years? Hmm? Is that how you propose to help?"

"How dare you!" Lupin roared. Tonks and Shacklebolt braced themselves, struggling to hold him back.

"Oh I dare," Severus hissed. "I dare because I was here. Harry may have hated me, but he knew I was here. He knew I was a protector. He knew that while you may choose to flit in and out of his life whenever the desire struck you, I would always be here for him! He said it himself once: there is consistency in routine." He sneered at the angry werewolf before him. "Face it. It's always been true. If I had left his life, it would have caused far more of an impact than if you had!" Lupin roared again, struggling harder to get to Snape. Madame Pomphrey finally snapped out of her bubble of guilt and rushed forward to help restrain him.

Harry couldn't move. He stared at the scene playing out before him, wanting nothing more in his life than to deny that accusation. But it was there; like a disease; ringing through his head and crying in his heart. His memories of the last month were vague at best, but even without them, Harry knew it was true. He would have missed Snape more. Snape was right; he was consistent. He was there. The greasy git, the snarky bastard, the one who tried to protect him as far back as his first ever Quidditch game… Harry had not gone longer than a day without thinking about or talking to or seeing the man, for the last six years of his life. He represented Hogwarts, to an extent, which Harry had _always_, without fail, referred to as home. Long before Harry's ten year old self had declared Snape family, he had been associating the man with home all along. Whereas Lupin… Lupin was a Marauder. His dad's friend. Sirius's friend. And after his teaching was over when Harry was thirteen, he hadn't seen the man again until he collected him from the Dursley's when he was fifteen. Lupin had left him. Not by choice, perhaps. But somehow Harry had innately known not to depend on him. And he'd barely spared the man more than a passing thought all these years. But Snape…

He swayed slightly in place, completely blown away by his epiphany. "Err…" Harry rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, seeking an elusive form of comfort the gesture implied. "I have to go to the bathroom."

Healer Goldenseal paused in her glaring match with Madame Pomphrey and Professor Dumbledore to smile kindly at Harry. "Of course, dear one. You go right on ahead." Lupin took a step closer to Harry, glaring at Blaise, Greg, and Vince, when the boys stood as one and blocked his path.

"Right," Harry nodded stiffly, avoiding eye contact with everyone as he hurried to the bathroom. He opened the door and quickly entered, fully prepared to close and lock the door when he was abruptly shoved further back into the bathroom. Harry staggered, catching himself against the wall, as another figure entered the bathroom with him; slamming and locking the door.

Large protuberant eyes danced with happiness as she twirled her wand merrily through the air, an iridescent sheen covering the door. Harry looked between the door and his friend warily. Wards were supposed to be clean and clear. It was a standard clause important to their reliability. If they couldn't be seen, they couldn't easily be breached without substantial effort. Luna's wards were visible. "Umm, Luna?"

Someone knocked on the door, a muffled voice offering a garbled inquiry. Luna ignored the distraction, pulling a milky looking potion out of her robes and offering it to him. "Don't you wish it wasn't a dream, Harry?"

He blinked. "Pardon?"

She lazily flipped the vial from hand to hand. "I know what it's like to walk around in a distorted reality. Everything hazy and dream like." Luna looked up, blinking her eyes slowly, her gaze intent and freezing him in place. She smiled gently. "But not for you, Harry. You were never meant to have your memories and thoughts interrupted. Your power is great, yes. Awesome." Blonde hair danced around her waist as she shook her head. "But not like this. This will hurt the way you view your reality. It will change your perspective in an equally frightening and irreversible way."

The knocks on the door turned into a cacophony of banging as the students and teachers realized it was locked and warded.

Harry once again looked between the door and his friend. "Snape said I have adverse reactions to chemicals. How could you possibly help me when he can't?"

She smiled dreamily at the wall, potion vial swinging carelessly between her fingers. "Call me an expert on all things, Harryverse." Without once ever meeting his eyes, Luna tossed the potion vial to him. Harry caught in without thought, his seeker skills kicking in without prompting, and simply stared at the nearly transparent liquid swirling in an almost happy blur of sparks.

The banging on the door intensified. He could hear loud declarations to blast the door down, followed by desperate shouting from Madame Goldenseal and Madame Pomphrey about the flammable contents of the infirmary. Someone, Hermione maybe, yelled out that Fred and George knew how to pick locks. That they had laughed about how they'd used the Muggle skill to break into the Dursley's house to get Harry's stuff back in second year.

"I," Harry frowned. He did not have a history of trust with chemicals. And… he rubbed his scar absently. Somewhere in the back of his head there was the impression of a hand gently patting his messy hair as his…father?... decisively told him not to take any potions and he would be all right. "I don't think…" He stared at the bottle. This feeling of déjà vu was oppressive. The dreams that were memories, this confusion and feeling of helplessness. "Really?"

The door shook as something heavy was thrust against it. Harry ignored it, staring into Luna's eyes. Hopeful. Pleading. She continued to smile at him, reaching up a hand to gently caress his cheek. "You were one of the first people to not treat me as something or someone to be patronized and dismissed. Gryffindors are not the only ones loyal, Harry. I am your friend."

Harry lifted the cup to his mouth and drank the potion down in one gulp. The texture was slightly gritty, with an oily residue just underneath that reminded him unpleasantly of castor oil. The flavor, bitter with a slightly acidic tang, exploded across his tongue and made his nose wrinkle with disgust as his eyes brimmed with sympathetic tears. His stomach lurched once; he belched loudly, and then… nothing. "I don't understand..." He paused, opening and closing his mouth soundlessly, as a violent gash ripped him apart from the inside out. For just a second, time seemed suspended. Harry looked up, green eyes dilated with shock and pain, before his knees crumpled and he hit the floor.

He could feel the blood in his veins turning sluggish, as shards of ice burst throughout his system and speared him. It burned. And consumed. And left prickly needles of pain on his sensitized and rapidly freezing flesh. And if _that_ wasn't an unpleasant sensation...he whimpered, a mix of pain and confusion. "Luna," he choked out. Frightened green eyes looked desperately up at where Luna was standing, calmly watching and humming to herself as tremors shook Harry's frame. "Hurts…" he panted out. One hand flew to his throat, clawing desperately at the skin there, trying to physically open his airway as the cold settled over him like a blanket. Smothering.

Luna smiled down at him as he convulsed silently on the ground. "Don't fight it Harry," she told him in a lilty, sing-songy tone of voice. "It really is for the best."

She was still standing there, humming to herself, as Harry gave one desperate gulp for air and his heart stopped beating.

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Erm... eah. That just kinda happened. Ish. (ducks and runs) Thoughts?

ALSO - Ok, fine. (sigh) For all you sexy Slytherins out there...why would a Slytherin know about Risin?


	19. The Penalty of Clarification

Wow! Never knew so many people could go from loving Luna to hating her in the next breath. I loved all the death treats and being told I was a "giant dork and a meanie head." But, ILuvChocs...giving me Har Bear eyes? That was cruel. I explain my reasonings behind this chapter at the bottom.

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He was locked in a prison of ice. He could feel the cold, breathing over his skin, flowing through his body. Controlling. Captivating. His mind drifted as his body succumbed to weightlessness. Green eyes widened in shock when a noise suddenly intruded upon the gentle silence. He was at the Dursley's. Watching a five year old version of himself fight back tears.

"He did it, Daddy! Harry did it!" A plump six year old with a shiny pink face was gleefully pointing at his cousin. "Harry broke the vase!"

Little Harry didn't say a word as his uncle bellowed and gave him four harsh spanking, dragging him with a bruising grip out of the kitchen to throw him into his cupboard. He went obediently, unsurprised, still not saying anything as Uncle Vernon slapped his palm against the door and laughed about Harry's lack of intelligence. Harry waited until Uncle Vernon stomped away before his shaky voice came through the door. "I did it. I took the blame. Are you going to be my friend now?"

Little Dudley was still standing in the living room, a look of shock on his face that he had been believed so easily. Especially considering Harry wasn't tall enough to even reach the shelf where the vase had been kept. But it had been _so easy_ to transfer the blame. His expression turned calculating when he heard the tentative voice. "No."

"But you said…"

Dudley slammed his hand against the cupboard door in an eerie mimicry of his father. Little Harry went quiet again. "We can't be friends because you're not good enough." He ran upstairs, laughing. Petunia rushed past the cupboard in her haste to get to the store to buy her Diddums some more chocolate cake, ignoring the muffled sobs coming from behind the door.

Harry stared in shock and remembered pain. Then, the scene shifted, blurred, and suddenly he was in the dormitory at Hogwarts. A little Harry was slowly backing away from a sleepy and confused looking Draco, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Please don't be mad," little Harry begged. "I'm sorry I woke you up. I'll go back to bed, I promise." Eager to make Draco happy, he scampered back to his bed, climbing in and disappearing underneath the blankets.

Draco blinked, bewildered and half asleep. "What the hell? Harry?"

"You called him Potter, dick weed." Blaise muttered irritably, sitting up in bed and glaring blearily in Draco's general vicinity. "How the fuck is he supposed to take it?" Blaise groaned at the clock, staggering out of bed and slamming the bathroom door behind him.

"Come here Harry," Draco sighed. No movement or sound came from Harry's bed. Draco gritted his teeth. "Now."

Slowly, the blankets peeled back and a little body emerged from the relative safety of the bed. Harry dragged his feet but obediently crossed the room until he stood trembling before Draco. Without a word Draco reached out and grabbed Harry. He absently noted that even scared Harry didn't flinch around him, before dragging Harry back into bed with him and covering them both up. He sighed into Harry's soft hair. "Just because I call you Potter doesn't mean I'm mad at you," he said softly. "Even if I was mad at you Harry," he pulled back, wiping away the single tear on Harry's cheek, to look into the little boy's eyes. "Even if I was mad," he repeated, 'you're a Slytherin now. You don't back down if you're not in the wrong. There's a difference between retreating from a fight and giving in. If someone is mad at you, and you have done nothing wrong, then you stay and tell them to back off."

"I didn't mean to make you mad, Draco." Harry sounded forlorn.

"I know you didn't, you cheese head." Absently he rubbed the back of Harry's neck, wondering why that seemed to reassure the boy more than his words did. They lay there, cuddling, until Draco knew he either had to get up or go back to sleep. Sleepily he kissed the messy hair. "Come on," he yawned, "let's get ready for the day."

And then he was in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. In the middle of a scene that was rather interesting to observe. Or, at least he thought so.

Harry stood patiently, watching as they dragged his body out of the bathroom and laid him on a bed. In three seconds flat, Professor McGonagall was screaming at Vince, Greg, and Blaise as they silently held Madame Pomphrey at wand point to keep her away from his body. Pansy helpfully stunned Lupin, floating the distraught man onto a nearby bed. Snape and Healer Goldenseal frantically ripped his body's shirt open and cast simultaneous spells at his chest. Harry and the body on the bed jerked in tandem. The ghostly apparition of himself rubbed his chest, startled by the burning warmth that speared him, and the way the colors around him flickered and dimmed.

"We have a heart beat." Healer Goldenseal sagged with relief, brushing the wayward strands of hair off Harry's forehead. She gestured irritably at Dumbledore and Pomphrey. "Quick, help me. Bring in a tub and fill it with warm water. We have got to get his body temperature up."

Hermione stared at the frozen body before her. "Not again, not again." She shook her head side to side in denial. "This can't be happening again."

Draco grabbed Luna's arm in a bruising grip, preventing the girl from moving away. "What do you mean, again?"

"The last time all of us were gathered together in this room." Hermione moaned slightly, turning blindly towards Blaise and clinging desperately. "The last time, when Harry was on fire. This can't be happening again." Harry walked over to his friend, wanting to comfort and reassure her; alarmed when his hand went right through her. Hermione shuddered again, reaching up to rub at her shoulder.

"What in God's name did you do to him?" Snape stalked over to where Draco was frisking Luna, so angry he was shaking. His grip on his wand so tight blood was starting to drip on the floor from where his nails bit into his flesh.

Luna blinked up at the man, seeming utterly perplexed by his anger and concern. "I helped him," she said simply. Catching sight of Harry over Snape's shoulder, she waved cheerfully. Dumbledore and Tonks looked slightly concerned that Luna appeared to be waving at the wall.

"She doesn't have her wand on her." Draco's voice was shaking.

"I wouldn't curse him!" She seemed scandalized by the very notion. "This isn't the first life we've been friends in." She smiled brightly at Hermione while the Gryffindor stared down at Harry's body, tears streaming down her face. "That's how he recognized me."

"What do you mean that's how he recognized you?" Pansy snapped; torn between helping Draco and watching Harry. She settled for holding Draco's arm in a supportive grip while looking at the prone figure on the bed. "He's known you for years."

"No," Luna replied serenely. "He hasn't." She pulled her arm free from Draco's grasp, ignoring the curious and horrified looks cast in her direction. "My Harry has," she replied sweetly. "But this Harry hasn't. He didn't meet me, physically, until riding the carriages on the way to school for the opening feast. We weren't meant to be friends until he was able to see Thestrals."

"What?" Professor McGonagall didn't quite know how to react to this.

"But he can see Thestrals already," she continued happily. "So he recognized me when you brought him back to the castle."

"Wait." Hermione glanced between the prone figure breathing shallowly on the bed and the flighty blonde "I think I get that."

Draco gave the girl a look of deep betrayal. "What the _fuck_ Granger! How could you get something as completely illogical as that?"

"I don't, I mean." Hermione gripped her hair in both hands and pulled slightly, taking a deep breath as the pain helped her focus. "Ok," she opened her eyes and took a calming breath. "I think what she's saying is that Harry shouldn't have recognized her on the steps when he came in."

"But he just saw Luna last week." Greg looked confused. "She took him to the office."

"No," Pansy said slowly, absently patting Draco's arm. "No, she took ten year old Harry to the office. Fifteen year old Harry has never met her, and doesn't meet her until he starts, started, will start," she waved dismissively, "I've never been good with tenses. But he meets her right before fifth year starts." She turned and frowned at the smiling blonde. "And fifth year hasn't started for Harry."

"So that gives her the right to curse him?" Tonks' voice was sweet, belying her intense stare.

"I didn't curse him," Luna sang out.

"If you didn't curse him," Shacklebolt's deep voice reverberated through the room, "then why did you say having Harry in this position would be helpful to him?"

Luna gave the Auror a solemn stare. "Swiss cheese isn't suited for everyone."

Kingsley shrugged apologetically when Snape gave him an impatient glare. "She doesn't have a wand on her, and she claims not to have cursed him. I can't do anything to her." He looked at the body on the bed sadly. "This could be a natural progression of the accident for Harry."

"People do not just freeze to death for no reason!" Draco bellowed.

"People also do not light on fire for no reason," Dumbledore gently reminded.

Snape head snapped around at this observation. Reaching out, he seized Luna by the shoulders and shook her violently. "Did you poison him? Give him any potions?"

She gave him a blank look. "I helped him," she repeated.

"Severus!" Albus barked sternly. "You may not take your emotions out on students!"

"Even if they deserve it?" Vince asked seriously.

"Not even then." Dumbledore intoned.

"You'd better hope, Lovegood." Gray eyes burned with hidden threat. "You had better _hope_ that Harry is ok."

"Mr. Malfoy!" Minerva looked scandalized by the implied threat.

Draco ignored her. "I know ways to make you suffer." He smiled coldly. "And I can guarantee they'll never find a body."

Luna patted him on the arm, seemingly unphased. "I have to go to the bathroom."

"I'll go with you." Tonks didn't wait for a response and entered the bathroom.

"Oh I know how," she replied anyway. "I've been going to the bathroom by myself for years now."

Tonks reemerged from the bathroom, holding a small glass vial. "Found this on the floor."

Snape reached out and took it from her, sniffing the residue warily. His brow wrinkled in confusion. "This is nothing more than a stasis potion."

The Slytherins looked confused. "A stasis potion shouldn't have caused this," Pansy gestured to Harry's body on the bed. "They're used when patients have extreme injuries and may die in the time it takes to brew and administer the healing potions."

"That would be great in theory," Blaise mused, still stroking Hermione's hair soothingly. "Except we don't know what to give Harry to help him." He frowned. "And that shouldn't have stopped his heart."

"No," Snape said slowly. He looked at the bed. Turning to Draco, Snape ordered. "Stay with Harry until I return."

Draco nodded, well used to his teacher's abrupt nature. "Yes, sir." He raked his hand through his hair, observing the organized chaos surrounding Harry's body with a bleak expression. Luna took advantage of the temporary distraction to run into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind her.

Harry floated through the door, rubbing his chest where the burning warmth was spreading. The memory shifted again. He was in Snape's office, watching the miniature version of himself jump off the couch where he'd been whispering with Hermione and rushing towards a clearly irate Draco.

Harry lifted his head, bringing his hands up to Draco's cheeks and turning until their noses were practically pressed together. "I'll help you with your homework Draco," he said earnestly. "Mione says I'm awfully smart and a quick learner. I won't mess up."

Draco smiled, pulling back far enough to stop himself from going cross eyed. "I'm sure you wouldn't Harry." Harry still looked uncertain, clinging to Draco just a little too tight. "I'm not mad at you, Harry," he repeated. "Why would I be mad that you were sick?"

Green eyes dulled, became shuttered. Harry shrugged, dropping his forehead into the curve of Draco's neck. "Because then I'm useless," he whispered. He flinched when Draco stiffened and Hermione's gasp echoed through the office.

"Why would you be useless?" Draco kept his tone calm; belying the anger coursing through him at the simple words.

The little body started to shake against him, hands opening and closing over Draco's robes. "Cause then I can't do my chores, and I'm messy, and sometimes…" Draco could feel Harry swallow tightly. "I don't mean to but sometimes weird things happen. I don't mean to," he repeated. He lifted his head, looking at Draco with eyes bright with tears. "Uncle Vernon gets mad and locks me in my cupboard. You don't have a cupboard but you can lock me in the bathroom or something until I'm better." Hermione slapped a hand over her mouth in horror. Harry kept looking at Draco, his voice thick with tears, eyes wide and begging. "I'll try not to be bad Draco. I won't be sick anymore. I'll straighten the bedroom and help cook breakfast. Just please please don't send me away."

Draco, suddenly and irrationally, hated Severus Snape. He pressed Harry's head into his neck, rubbing the back of his neck soothingly. He shook his head at Hermione, warning her now was not the time to pursue this. And he sighed. Deeply. "Harry," he began calmly. "I don't give a shit if you ever make a bed or cook a meal again for your entire life. I will not allow anyone to lock you up anywhere. Ever. I will severely punish anyone who even tries, including your worthless uncle." He tightened his grasp on Harry's neck, pulling back until he could look into Harry's eyes. Something warm tightened and clenched inside him. "You are not useless. You have never been and will never be useless." He cuddled Harry close again, shutting his eyes and mentally cursing Snape. "I will never do anything that will get you taken away from me, and I will never send you away."

Hands reached up and circled Draco's neck. Draco was only slightly disgusted with himself when he turned his head and kissed a little palm. "You promise?" Harry questioned tremulously.

Draco sighed, kissed Harry's forehead and sealed his oath. "I promise."

Harry was back at the Dursley's, frantically apologizing to his uncle while Aunt Petunia rushed a whimpering Dudley into the kitchen. Piers Polkis was dancing excitedly in place, babbling about how the snake had tried to squeeze him to death, commenting, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry?"

"Er, no," little Harry stammered out in fear. "Don't be silly. You can't talk to snakes."

Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harry. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go – cupboard – stay – no meals," before he collapsed into a chair and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy. (1)

And suddenly he was in Dumbledore's office.

**Childhood was a slippery diving board  
on which often my heart cracked, bouncing,  
splashing, into piranha-hosted orgies.  
Thrill of being noticed so intoxicating  
that I didn't mind being eaten alive.  
The more my life bled, the louder it laughed. **

**In daylight I tended carefully my garden of  
darkness singing secret terrors to the earth.  
Thus did language authorize my fear  
to dismiss itself––and knowledge empower  
my body to act with passionate wisdom.  
Out of muddy turds flew freedomsongs of mystic blue**

Ten year old Harry blushed, embarrassed. It was so not cool to quote poetry! Especially in front of grown ups! "Fawkes says it relates to my life," he finished in a small voice; wanting nothing more than to run and hide until these people stopped making him quote things and let him go hide with his snakes. "I don't know what it means," he repeated. "Do you?"

The scene shifted, blurred. And then he was in the Slytherin dormitory once again. "You were covered in a goopy membrane when you woke up?"

Harry nodded at Hermione, unable to speak past the large mass of Treacle Tart he was eating. He'd spent a quiet afternoon relaxing and playing games with his friends in his room. They had talked about Harry's memories, trying to fill in the blanks for him as best they could. Blaise had laughed about feeding the rumor mill, but Harry was too happy to care or question what that meant. Dobby – he had a friend that was an elf. Holy wow! – had brought them all dinner, with a special dessert just for Harry. He'd only been ten for a day, according to his friends, but Harry thought Dobby was a brilliant cook. Although he was still confused over actually meeting an elf. Especially one that looked nothing like the ones living in Rivendell or Lothlorian. Harry liked to read. It was easier to deal with being locked up in his cupboard if he had something to occupy his imagination with. "Yes," he managed finally, accepting the napkin from Draco and obediently wiping his face and hands. "I washed it off, but it was sticky and weird."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "What's one of the first things you remembered after waking up, Har Bear?"

"That I was a Slytherin," he answered promptly, blushing when Draco grinned and dropped an arm over his shoulders again. "Actually," he admitted shyly, leaning a little closer to Draco, "I thought I was a snake. But then I remembered."

"In American Indian myth," the girl spoke slowly, giving Harry a penetrating look; "snakes symbolize rebirth. They're respected over the fact that they symbolize the power to shed one's past self and start anew." Hermione bit her lip.

Harry was starting to feel sick from the constant shuffling from memory to memory. Why did he need to see all this anyway? It wasn't as though he had forgotten something that had happened so recently! Wait… he jerked slightly when he suddenly found himself in Malfoy Manor. He _had_ forgotten this. All of it. These dreams had been haunting him, plaguing his mind, and suddenly they stood out in sharp relief for him. Details once hazy snapping into sharp perspective. But it just didn't make sense! It was one thing to read about the happenings when he was young, it was quite another to look at these people… people he still wasn't certain he even _liked_ and feel such a rush of safety, and friendship, and acceptance, and love. The two just couldn't seem to correlate in his mind. He looked at the two figures before him, cuddled close on the bed, a fierce yearning twanging deep inside of him. He wanted this. A family. Someone who loved him and accepted him and treated him as though his feelings and problems were substantiated and reasonable.

Severus closed his eyes. In his haste to keep Harry safe he didn't consider the fact the boy was remembering bits and pieces of his real life. And in Harry's real life, all memories relating to the Malfoy family were negative. His eyes flew open at Harry's next question. "Sir? Was my mum a bad person?"

"What? Your mother? Why would you ask that, Harry?"

"Well…" Harry absently began toying with a button on Snape's cloak as he burrowed deeper into the crook of his arms. "Mr. Lupin talked to me about my dad, and a lot of people say I'm just like him. But no one talks about my mum, and I dreamed of her in the graveyard with me and sometimes…"

"Yes," Snape prompted tightly. "Sometimes what?"

"Sometimes I can hear her screaming in my head," Harry whispered. "When I was a little boy I used to think that I didn't deserve a family. That I had been really bad, bad like my mother, and that's why Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia hated me. Aunt Petunia," his breath hitched, "she told me that it was my fault my parents died in that car crash. Was my mother bad? Is that why no one talks about her?"

Tightening his hold on the trembling little boy, Snape maneuvered them both so they were lying on their sides, facing each other. Harry promptly hid his face in his teacher's cloak. "Harry," Severus said calmly, "I want you to listen to me very carefully. Can you do that?" Harry nodded, refusing to lift his face or release his death grip on Snape's arm. "My father was a lot like your uncle." Snape's voice was soft, designed not to carry; Harry stilled against his side, listening intently. "I grew up thinking I was not meant to have a family either. My father… was persuasive. He enjoyed teaching me I was worthless, unlovable, and nothing but trouble."

Harry's head snapped up, green eyes wide and imploring. "You are not! I love you!" He immediately blushed crimson, hiding his face in Snape's robes again.

Severus smiled, raising his other hand to card through Harry's unruly hair. "Thank you, Harry." He paused, searching for words, hand rubbing soothingly across Harry's back. "I met a little girl. A little girl with long red hair, bright green eyes, and the warmest smile I had ever seen. She made me feel smart, special, safe, accepted in a way I had never dreamed possible. I loved her very much. To this day she is the smartest and kindest witch or Muggle I have ever known."

Curious green eyes met troubled black. "Smarter than Mione?" Severus nodded, smiling as Harry's eyes went huge. "My mum was smarter than Mione? Is that even possible?"

"I assure you it is."

"Wow."

"Wow, indeed." Snape paused, bringing his hand under Harry's chin and forcing the boy to meet his eyes steadily. "Harry, one thing your mum taught me was that family is not indicative of blood ties. Rather, family is decided by love, and trust, and comfort. You will always have a family, Harry, and you will always be deserving of a family. If not family by blood, then family by heart."

And then he was back in the Hospital Wing. "Oh Harry!" Luna cried out happily. "You're back! Did you have a nice visit?"

Pansy sighed, exchanging irritable looks with Hermione and Blaise. "There she goes again."

Harry looked longingly towards his friends. "If I'm a ghost, why can't they see or hear me?"

She looked startled. "Of course you're not a ghost, Harry. Your spirit is just slightly unattached right now."

"I'm writing my father," Draco announced coldly. "Hogwarts really should establish _some_ standards as to who they accept!"

"Now, Mr. Malfoy…"

Harry stuck his hand through the door, glaring at the bubbly blonde. "This, this right here? This does not seem to be helpful." Harry paced around the small room. "Why am I not in my body? Am I dead? You thought killing me would be helpful?"

"Your mother died for you." The others in the room jerked to attention at Luna's random proclamation.

"Who's mother?" Greg asked in confusion.

"Harry's."

"Oh." He nodded. "Wait. What?"

Harry also turned at the simple words. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"My mother knew my dad couldn't raise me on his own." Luna smiled vaguely at the wall, addressing her comments to everyone. "Harry's mother died to protect him; my mother clung to me to protect me."

"Erm," Pansy looked disconcerted. "What?"

"It's simple enough." Luna absently toyed with her necklace. "Mum stayed with me. She guided me as I grew up." Luna shrugged. "She was a brilliant witch, you know." Tonks smiled at the girl sympathetically. Vince cracked his knuckles. Hermione looked alarmed. Harry nodded uncertainly, crossing and uncrossing his arms as he tried to understand what his mother dying, and her mother dying, had to do with the fact that _he_ was, apparently, dying. "Mum left me for good when I started school. She knew I could handle things on my own from there." Luna smiled dreamily. "But you can't have your soul bonded to a spiritual entity for three years and expect no lingering effects. I don't look at the world the way others do. I may never be able to. I can see things others can't. Sometimes I know things before they happen."

Harry blinked. "And so you gave me a potion that separated me from my body because…" he gave her a sarcastic look that was more suited for Draco's face.

"Did you know that Harry would have this accident?" Blaise inquired politely. Luna ignored him.

"Your mum died for you, and protected you with her blood from the icky people." Luna hummed to herself for a moment, seemingly content. "But she didn't bond to you. She couldn't protect you from your environment. So you protected yourself the only way you knew how."

Hermione sighed, deciding to play along with Luna's rambling explanation in the hopes of getting a straight answer. "And how did 'Harry' do that."

"Denial."

"Denial?"

"Yes, denial." Luna looked Harry's form directly in the eye. The others in the room looked around warily, wondering who or what Luna saw that they couldn't. "It's painful. And consuming. You've been raised your whole life thinking there is only good and bad. Good is obedient, and faithful, and the way to stay safe and make friends." Her smile turned sad. "But by spending your whole life trying to be good, you've suppressed everything else in your life. You don't know how to deal with anything."

"And being outside my body will help me on this quest?" Harry frowned, slightly startled, at the level of sarcasm and frustration in his tone.

Luna beamed. "See! It's working already!"

"So… me being an asshole is helping?"

She shrugged. "Whatever works. But you have to hurry," she added. "Snape will figure out how to get the last of the toxins out of your system soon, and then you'll be out of time."

"Out of time for what?"

Draco interrupted Luna's conversation with thin air. "Snape? Snape figured out what's wrong with Harry?"

"Oh but that's marvelous news," Tonks cheered.

Pansy gave the blonde an unimpressed look. "Granted, of course, that we can accept the word of someone who seems capable of running conversations with nothing."

"Maybe it really is Harry?" Greg looked around, waving at random spots in the room.

Hermione sighed deeply, her voice coming out strained. "Luna. If, and I do mean if, you are talking to or about Harry, how long will he remain in this frozen state?"

"He's not frozen," Luna exclaimed in surprise. "Healer Goldenseal and Professor Snape already restarted his heart and thawed out his body. Now he's just waiting."

"Waiting?" Dumbledore eyed the girl carefully. There had always been something just a bit _off_ about Miss Lovegood. And if she really thought her mother's spirit had bonded itself to her during her formulative years…well. "What is young Harry waiting for?"

"For Snape to stabilize him against the rest of the poison," she answered simply.

"Poison?" Shacklebolt's gaze sharpened. "I thought you said you did no harm to Mr. Potter."

"I didn't."

"Then who did?" McGonagall asked impatiently.

"Snape already told you." Luna sighed. "His Muggle relatives."

Lupin moaned, rubbing his temple, as the curse lifted. "His Muggle relatives poisoned him?" Tears rolled silently down his face. "I've failed you, James," he whispered brokenly.

"What is it?" Healer Goldenseal asked worriedly.

"He did think Harry had been poisoned before the potion accident." Pansy studied Luna intently. "But that poison was flushed from his system after the accident when he was five."

A look of deep sadness crossed Luna's face. "I really didn't wish to hurt you, Harry," she said softly. "It's just that I am open enough to see or hear things that others either cannot or choose not to." Her voice turned unnaturally serious. "You have trained yourself to repress yourself for so long, the only way I could foresee helping you was to connect with your spirit. You can't build successful barriers when you are not in your body."

"I didn't need to break down any barriers!" Harry shouted.

"You did," she serenely replied. "It's the only way to help you be normal."

"Normal? This helps me become _normal_?" Harry started pacing. "How the hell can you justify that? Seeing all that, remembering everything… now I'm just confused. And worried. And I don't quite know what to do." He raked his hand through his hair. "I feel like, like the other shoe is about to drop and I am going to be perpetually stuck in the middle."

Luna beamed at him. "Yes, that's normal."

Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes with his palms. "I was happier when I was angry."

Vince gave Luna a somber look. "I don't think landing Harry in the infirmary is helpful."

Snape strode into the Hospital Wing, clutching a potions vial, black robes billowing around him. The Slytherins instantly stood up straight upon seeing him. "Quickly," he snapped out, making his way to Harry's side. "Tilt his chin back."

"What is it?" Lupin stood shakily beside his bed and took a tentative step towards Harry's body. Pansy raised her wand threateningly, ready and willing to stupefy him again if need be. "What did those bastards do to Harry?"

"Lead poisoning," Snape answered crisply, pouring the vial of potion down Harry's throat with a steady hand. The apparition of Harry staggered slightly, hands flying to his stomach, as flares of acid shot through him. The body on the bed jerked; a garbled moan barely audible.

"Lead poisoning?" Dumbledore and McGonagall looked shocked. The pure bloods looked confused. Hermione looked livid.

"Correct," Black eyes never left the struggling form on the bed. "It reacts differently in magical individuals, and then with all the other chemicals he was exposed to when he crashed into the cabinet; it took me awhile to isolate the discrepancy."

"But," Tonks looked confused. "But how did they give Harry lead poisoning?"

"It was the paint, wasn't it?" Hermione exchanged grim looks with Snape. "Before it was outlawed, lead based paint was used to speed up drying time and resist moisture that caused corrosion. It's quite common to find in older homes." She stamped her foot, arms crossing over hr chest in frustration. "Harry said whenever his family went up or down the steps, dust would fall from overhead. More than likely, this included paint flecks as well."

"So by giving him a home, and helping him survive from You-Know-Who," McGonagall spoke slowly, looking nauseous, "they were slowly killing him?" She turned to the devastated looking headmaster. "Oh Albus!"

Snape continued to watch Harry as a flush worked its way up the too pale cheeks. "Harry lived in that cupboard until he was ten. Kids under the age of six who are exposed to lead paint suffer from internal damage and delayed development." He looked up, glaring at the room at large. "_That's_ why he was unusually short for his age, that's why when he started school he was drawn and sickly looking. Taking him away from the Dursley's probably saved his life!"

Luna smiled at the wall again. "Some could argue that this potions accident saved his life." She blinked at the startled faces. "You fixed his vision, stuffed him full of nutrient potions, immunized him from standard childhood illnesses that could be deadly to adults, and managed to burn the most toxic chemicals out of him." She shrugged. "Harry's never been healthier."

The acid had worked its way through the majority of Harry's form by this point. Luna noticed him struggling. "Close your eyes," she offered helpfully.

Harry eyed her warily. The last time he'd listened to Luna he'd wound up outside of his body. Which had seemingly been her intention from the beginning. Luna sat there smiling, humming lightly to herself. But no one else could see or hear him, besides her, which was weird in and of itself, so what else did he have to lose? He closed his eyes. And waited. "Am I supposed to feel…"

He slammed back into his body without warning; back arching, mouth open in a silent scream. Snape was by his side in an instant; clutching him around the shoulders. "Calm down, Harry, it's alright. Deep breath. Slow down."

Luna was singing quietly to herself in the corner. "When all you gotta keep is strong, move along, move along, like I know you do…"

Draco rushed to Harry's side, settling for placing a calming hand on Harry's leg as Healer Goldenseal's presence prevented him from getting as close as he would have liked to. Tears streamed from Harry's eyes as the memories solidified in his mind. He remembered swimming and choking, eating treacle tart, Ron being turned into a parrot. He remembered stroking Draco's cheek as he lay sleeping, blushing at the surge of attraction he didn't quite understand. Playing soccer in the mud, playing games with Narcissa. Snape defending him, confusing Hermione with his Mum as she cared for him. Pansy telling him he would be safe and believing her. Greg and Vince coloring with him while he waited for a check up. Sirius falling through the veil. The first day of school, toying listlessly with his breakfast as he thought about how much more attractive Draco was when he smiled, wondering why he kept meeting his eye across the hall. Walking to class with Pansy and Blaise. Doubling over with pain before that bright blinding white light took over.

Harry opened his eyes. Wild green eyes looking around at all the people surrounding him. He saw his friends, his snakes, Lupin, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape… he closed his eyes again, trying to stop the torrent of tears. He felt like he had been ripped apart and hap hazardously put back together. His heart felt too full, his mind too confused. This was feeling normal? Feeling overwhelmed and utterly unprepared for the harshness of reality?

"Harry?" Hermione's voice was tentative.

"How do you feel, Mr. Potter?" The healer's voice was brisk as she checked his pulse, body temperature, and reflexes.

"Harry?" Draco's asked quietly. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Yes." His voice was hoarse. He cleared his throat, trying again. "Yes," he repeated firmly. Brilliant green eyes opened and studied the room around him. "I remember everything."

Luna smiled.

HDHDHD

(1) Taken verbatim from page 29 in the US version of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. Because I always found that slightly breathless and irrational grouping of words rather funny. (shrug) But that's just me.

!!

SO - random chapter, yes? Here's my thing with Luna. She always just seemed to be so "out there," and connected in canon. I thought about her quite a bit, and love toying with her character. So, several chapters ago, when you all expressed discontent that Harry's memories of his snakes was more like a dream...well, I wanted to keep it that way for two scenes rattling around in my head. BUT - it affected me. I thought this would be an unexpected twist. Was a bit worried it may be tooo much, but decided to close my eyes and roll with it.

So, desperately, I ask. Thoughts? Did I lose you all?


	20. Now What?

Loooooong A/N. Feel free to ignore me.

1. Holy hell guys, I'm a bad author! (slaps self) I haven't mentioned all the lovely people who nailed the review challenges for the last two chapters! So in no particular order… Pip3 (hugs fellow Slytherin), With A Midnight Smile, Midnight Blue Wolves, Lyra Of The Fallen, One Eyed Monster, Karla Manatee, BDSanta2001 (hugs for flattering author), Lady Nyneve. And, MannyWitch for not hexing me when I didn't update when I promised her I would. (looks guilty) And PeterPanComplex for reviewing at the wrong time and getting a long winded vent in reply on how much reality bites. On the flip side, hey! Thanks for responding back! Glad your month was good and you think of me as a penpal and not a slightly psychotic author : )

2. About the lead poisoning…. OK, In fandom you read tons and tons of fics where Harry is raped, abused almost to the point of death, starved until his ribs are practically concave, shot, etc. However, I HAVE to believe that Dumbledore had some sort of observation over Harry and WOULD have interfered if things had degenerated to that point. I HAVE to believe that, or I will stop liking his character. However, when I was pregnant my doctor (glares at doctor) gave me a pamphlet on how women can expose their unborn fetus to lead which could result in multiple disorders or even miscarriage. I was very young, and very hysterical over that for quite awhile. Reading the HP books, I always thought the casually dismissive tone the Dursley's had for Harry spoke volumes about their parenting skills. During DH, when Petunia walks away from Harry, I though to myself, "bet _she_ wouldn't be the type of mother to worry about lead poisoning." And boom, there was this entire plot.

3. I swear I tried to respond to the reviews I received, but for some reason it wouldn't let me. So I got frustrated and gave up. But may I just say I love you all uber much and appreciate the fact you are willing to stick with me through Luna's meandering little daze?

4. Should have the next chap up soon, as I had originally intended for this fic to be complete by the end of June. Alas, reality bites.

Loves!

Roo

HDHDHD

"Were you even going to tell me?"

Hermione winced, feeling shame well up inside her at the hurt sound in Ron's voice. "Well, we didn't have much time." It was true, they really hadn't. One minute Harry woke up, then Lupin started yelling and Snape punched him, and then Healer Goldenseal and Madame Pomphrey kicked everyone out of the infirmary.

"Not much time once Harry was here at Hogwarts, no. But you found out about Harry growing up with plenty of time for you all to sneak off campus and go see him," Ron pointed out quietly.

"I," Hermione bit her lip. "I didn't think about it," she admitted, staring morosely at the carpet. "We were all so excited he was older, and Pansy was rushing off to talk to Draco, and, well, Harry just felt like ours, you know?"

"I do know, Hermione," Ron stared at her pointedly. "For the last five years its been you, me, and Harry. I know what it is to feel possessive about your friends, and I also know what it is to be ignored by those same friends." He paced lightly, trying to find the words to express his feelings. "This summer everything changed. And, yes, it sucked and it was hard to accept. But damn it, Hermione. One minute you were both there, and then you were avoiding me because you felt bad, and Harry was avoiding me because I couldn't stop talking about you. And then with Harry's accident…" he trailed off, frustrated.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered.

"Yeah," he sighed, "I know you are. And I get it. You're in a new… relationship, and Harry has new friends, but you have both been my friends since I was eleven." He flushed lightly. "I don't make friends as well as you guys do." Hermione opened her mouth but Ron overrode her. "Yeah, I figured it out. My attitude sucks." He shrugged. "I was always Inkle Ronnikens growing up. Mum went a bit mental when she found out she wouldn't be able to have anymore kids, so Gin and I were always spoiled more than any of the other kids. I never thought to question my behavior until I suddenly found myself without you and Harry."

"I should have told you." Hermione's eyes filled with tears. "I felt bad before, about cutting you out, and then I went and did it all over again."

"Yeah," he sighed again. "Yeah you did." They were quiet for a moment before Ron forced a smile. "So, how is he?"

Hermione drooped all over again. "I don't know!" She stamped her foot in frustration. "He was bewildered over at the Malfoy's; questioning why he was there and why…" she flushed again. "He asked after you." Ron smiled fully at that. "In hindsight, I bet it was weird for him too. But we barely got to visit with him before he wanted to come to Hogwarts, and then Luna… did something to him." Her breath caught again, remembering the overwhelming sense of helplessness upon seeing Harry's prone figure on the bed. "His heart stopped beating for a few minutes."

Ron stared. "What?"

She nodded miserably. "It was all quite confusing. They got his heart beating, and Luna was talking to the wall, then Snape came striding in like an avenging angel and drugged him, and he woke up." She frowned. "He had lead poisoning."

"Poisoning? Who would poison Harry?"

"That's the real kicker." Hermione laughed bitterly. "It was the Dursley's. It wasn't enough to make him feel unwanted and unloved, wasn't enough to barely feed him and basically ignore him. Oh no. They live in an older home, and never bothered to check whether or not the paint used was lead based." She scowled bitterly. "Probably saw the cost of repainting their home and couldn't be arsed to care."

Ron swore under his breath. "How can people be like that?" He shook his head. "Maybe I was spoiled too much and maybe I am not the best of people, but, damn it… Harry was just a baby. How can there be people who look at a baby and think it's ok to… well, I don't know. Make the child sleep in a cupboard and be afraid of adults hurting him. And not even thinking about potential hazards in the home?" He frowned again, looking at the couch where his baby sister sat pretending to read a book. "I didn't understand the way Harry treated me when he was five, because I remembered Ginny. She was always so curious and into everything, but there were always people there to spoil her and keep an eye on her and teach her. Harry never had that. Ginny smiled a lot, and liked to dance instead of walk, and was fearless. Harry on the other hand, was cautious and reserved and had never had a present that was only his before."

"I don't understand either."

Ginny looked up, smiling slightly at her brother. "I've always thought of Harry as The Most Slytherin of Gryffindors. I've liked him ever since I met him because he reminded me of Charlie."

"But Charlie wasn't a Slytherin." Ron looked a bit confused.

"Neither was Harry." Ginny shrugged dismissively. "But they both always had that _something_ about them. That slightly untamed something that made you pay attention even if you didn't really want to. Charlie took his excess energy and applied it towards working with dragons in the middle of nowhere. Harry…" she trailed off, shrugging again. "Well, who knows what he would have ended up doing with his life if he didn't find a way to channel his energy. Mum nearly smothered Charlie, and he moved to Romania. Even if the Slytherins turn out to be nothing but concentrated evil, at least they taught Harry how to stand up for himself."

Ron sat down on the couch with a thump. "But Harry likes Mum."

"Yeah," Hermione said slowly. "Yeah he does. But he didn't like her when he was little, because he thought she would take him away from his snakes. And I think… I think Ginny's right, in a way. He always has been more reserved. And after Sirius… well, he could have gone to any of us for comfort, but instead chose to isolate himself at the end of last year. And this summer at the burrow, he was hardly his usual self."

Ginny nodded as she tossed her book down and stretched. "I'm just saying. I saw his eyes in the Great Hall that day he was clinging to Hermione when Mum and Dad were visiting. Sure he was utterly adorable and I just wanted to cuddle and kiss him, but there was something reserved about him. Something that reminded me of Charlie. So I didn't try to force myself on him and he smiled at me." Ginny smiled brightly at Ron and Hermione. "Well, I'm off to the kitchens for a snack. Don't be too hard on Hermione, Ron. Over the years Harry has taught you both how not to be model Gryffindors. She just got a bit too caught up in the moment." She waved as she exited the common room.

Hermione smiled ruefully. "I did get caught up. I was really happy. But I never meant to hurt you Ron. You know that, right?"

Ron stood up, pacing again, as Hermione stared miserably at the wall. He stopped suddenly and gave her an odd look. "Why are you here?"

She looked up, confused. "What?"

"Here. In Gryffindor tower. Why aren't you with _them?_"

Hermione scowled again. "Professor McGonagall did _not_ like being ordered out of the Hospital Wing. She docked ten points from me for sneaking off campus, walked me up here, and told the Fat Lady I was not allowed out until tomorrow."

Ron grinned at her. "Well, you think Harry would mind if we borrowed his dads cloak and visited him tonight?"

HDHDHD

If ever a more embarrassing afternoon could be spent, Harry would be hard pressed to realize it.

A strange sort of glimmer had appeared in Draco's eyes upon hearing Harry had his memories back. Greg and Vince beamed, Hermione burst into tears and flung herself at Blaise, Pansy gave a relieved looking smirk, and Lupin… well, Lupin lost his composure. Without missing a beat, he had turned to Dumbledore and demanded the Slytherins leave. They had no place being included at the level they had been, and Snape had no right to presume upon a relationship of any sorts with James' son. Harry, still lying sore and aching on the bed, watched with a vague sense of detachment as the fighting escalated. And then in seeming moments, Lupin was bleeding and everyone was banished from the room.

Not quite daring to give him potions after everything he had been through, Healer Goldenseal felt no qualms about subjecting him to the most painfully embarrassing question and answer session of his life, and then stuffing him with every sort of herb imaginable. Lobelia and Burdock roots added to his tea to ease tension and panic and cleanse his blood. Nettles to aid in a healthy urinary tract. Psyllium seeds to promote a healthy bowel movement. Cascara Sagrada to act as a laxative and strengthen his colon. And Milk Thistle and Dandelion Root to strengthen his liver. After the second hour of fussing, Harry finally snapped. "Can't you just, you know," he waved his arms about, "say Bibbity Bobbity Boo and make me better? Why do you have to give me all this crap?"

Madame Pomphrey sniffed disdainfully. "Bibbity Bobbity Boo is nothing more than a highly touted glamour spell." She fussed with his bedding; absently smoothing his sheets and fluffing his pillows. "You don't need any glamour charms, Mr. Potter."

"A glamour charm? Really?" Harry blinked; forgetting to fuss as his childhood ideals of Cinderella and Fairy Godmothers were shattered forever. "But still," he pushed the woman away from him slightly. "Why all the herbal crap?"

"This _herbal crap, _as you so charmingly phrased it," Healer Goldenseal spoke dryly, "is helping to keep you healthy. Lead poisoning is serious business. Muggles have _died _from it in the past." Harry scowled, opening his mouth. The healer took advantage of this and jammed a thermometer under his tongue before smiling into his indignant face. "Be thankful your magical core was so strong, or you could have been severely harmed."

"Magic isn't a cure all for everything," Madame Pomphrey added. "It helps us heal quicker than the barbaric way Muggles have developed, and keeps us healthier, but when our bodies are irreparably damaged we can't just swallow a potion and make it better. If that were the case, your Auror friend Moody would have both a nose and a proper leg, and many individuals, including Headmaster Dumbledore, would not need glasses."

"I get that," Harry said through slightly clenched teeth. "No miracle pill. But then, what's with all this?"

"Mr. Potter, do you know the most serious aspect of lead poisoning?" Healer Goldenseal didn't wait for an answer. "The most serious problem is that most people do not show signs of poisoning until the damage is irreversible!" She started ticking points off on her finger. "Convulsions, dizziness, anti social or delinquent behavior, impaired Vitamin D absorption, retinal dysfunction, nerve damage, brain disease, psychological disorders…"

"Most of the internal damage was flushed out after the… burning. But changing ages as quickly as you have has placed a bit of strain on your internal organs. We need to keep you healthy now that you are at the proper age again." Madame Pomphrey hesitantly reached out and ruffled Harry's hair, her eyes brimming with tears. "You were always such a polite little boy," she murmured. "So eager to please and reluctant to cause trouble. I should have…" she broke off, blinking quickly.

"Erm," Harry looked at the woman helplessly. "S'alright."

"Nine times," Pomphrey interrupted. "Once your first year, twice your second and third, three times your fourth, and once your fifth. I had you in my infirmary nine times. I could have, I should have…" she squared her shoulders; wiping at her eyes impatiently. "This doesn't make up for my lack of attention, not by far, but I am happy to do what I can to help you maintain quality health." Harry smiled weakly, uncertain how to break this emotional setting.

"Besides," Goldenseal came to his rescue with a sweet smile eerily reminiscent of Pansy's. "We can't give you any potions until Professor Snape finishes analyzing this latest sample of your blood. Unless, of course, you don't _mind _any adverse reactions." Harry gave in gracelessly, silently swearing to himself that if she dared ask him to turn his head and cough he would hex her with every nasty spell he knew. Then he was weighed, measured, given his last immunizations, poked for a blood sample and finally left alone in blissful silence and solitude.

He dozed for awhile, for once not dreaming of Cedric or Sirius; of graveyards and darkness and pain. Instead, he dreamed of gentle touches and laughter and learning to project bubbles into Hermione and Pansy's hair. He frowned, turning over in his sleep, and dreamed he was in the forbidden forest. "He's a son of man who knows not to wander into our depths."

"Bane," Ronan said patiently, "this is not the same cub that used us to disarm the woman last year."

Five year old Harry looked up at the centaurs with teary green eyes. "I want someone to take me to Draco," he repeated; tears sliding down his little cheeks.

Ronan looked at the bruise forming on Harry's head solemnly. "We won't hurt you, little one."

"I know." Harry wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Sometimes I dream of a man who was a horse, kind of like you, and a man who was a dog. They used to play with me." He paled suddenly, looking at the centaurs with trepidation. "But Uncle Vernon says that's bad. Uncle Vernon says I need to forget all about that nonsense and focus on real things."

Bane looked at Harry oddly. "I used to know two boys, one that could turn into a horse and one that could turn into a dog. They used to run with a wolf." He looked at Ronan, having a silent conversation. "You will stay and eat," he announced decisively, countering his own logic about not being mules and swinging Harry up onto his back.

In the Hospital Wing, Harry awoke with a start. He'd had lunch with centaurs? He rolled onto his back, absently rubbing at his scar. He'd remembered vague snatches of his father and Sirius as a child? He didn't remember remembering that. Uncle Vernon must have been…how had Snape phrased his own father's lessons? Persuasive? Yes, Uncle Vernon must have been rather _persuasive_ in his technique to make him forget anything that was not considered normal or acceptable. Hermione had told him once that her earliest memory was of driving home from her Grammy's house when she was two, crying because she didn't want to leave, and throwing her Poggle at the back of her dad's head. Harry scowled at the ceiling, wondering, somewhat bitterly, if he would have remembered flashes of his parents and Sirius and Moony if he hadn't been trained to forget them.

Giving up on the idea of sleep, Harry had long since climbed out of bed and crossed the room; staring pensively out the darkened window. If anyone had told him at the beginning of the year that he would be in an emotional quandary over his relationship with Slytherins… well, suffice it to say it would not have been the most gracious of responses. Although… he stared down at the picture in his hand; watching the five year old bellow with laughter as the blond teenager held him securely and smiled a bright, guileless smile. Hermione had been right in her letter. He _had_ been happy. Secure. Loved.

Is this how Luna helped him? By forcing him to remember and deal with all these crazy emotions whirling inside him? It was so much easier to get through life ignoring stupid things like feelings and emotions. He didn't know how to deal with this crazy new influx of, of, well, he didn't know exactly what was going on inside of him.

It was times like this he missed Sirius the most. Oh sure, there were any number of people who would gladly listen to his problems and offer advice. Ron, Hermione, Tonks, Lupin, Dumbledore, and the Weasley's… he had a generous support network established. But Sirius? Well, spending twelve years locked away in solitary confinement, trying not to lose ones mind over the sheer sensory deprivation, while dealing with Dementors… he had a unique outlook on life. Harry hadn't known him long, nearly two years exactly, but every letter, every conversation, had been filled with almost childlike enthusiasm over the simple things. The beaches and exotic birds he saw on his travels, the excitement of a well played prank, his joy at having Harry home for Christmas and belting out "God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs."

When Harry had confided in Sirius that he thought he might be gay, his fears about admitting it to others or even really himself, Sirius had been quiet for a long moment. Just when Harry was mentally congratulating himself on successfully isolating his only remaining family, Sirius had reached across the table and gripped his hand. "Harry," he spoke quietly. "After spending twelve years locked inside my mind trying to survive, I can tell you with crystal clarity that it is better to be happy with yourself than it is to have everyone happy on your behalf." And that was it. No judgment, no scorn, not even a well placed joke or two. Harry had been too overwhelmed by his own daring in saying the words out loud, by his massive relief that Sirius had still loved him, to dwell on what Sirius had really said. Truth be told, he didn't really understand it. But after he died, risking everything, always, for Harry, he began to understand. Sirius couldn't stop being who he was, even for, especially for, Harry, because he had learned the hard way that sometimes one needs to be "selfish" in order to live with your own conscience.

Even then, he may never have acted on his feelings. But that day at the Burrow, when Ron turned to him and demanded to know if he was harboring feelings for Hermione, Harry heard the faintest echo of Sirius' bark-like laugh and chose to be selfish. He never could have predicted hormones, of all things, coming between the Golden Trio, and the feeling of disquiet he felt when Draco never showed up on the train. Nor could he have imagined walking into the Great Hall that day to discover he couldn't lie to himself anymore. He was drawn to Draco. Malfoy. Always had been. And somewhere along the line that tension, that pull, had transfigured itself into something near consuming. Obsessive, even.

Harry laughed quietly to himself as he gazed out the window. It was odd, he mused, trying to sort out his memories in his head. It seemed like Draco had somehow _always _been there. He remembered his adoration and awe of the blond as a five year old, his tentative crush as a ten year old. His instantaneous dislike as an eleven year old. The fighting, the swearing, the rush of feelings that had always accompanied seeing and interacting with Draco. And now… now that he knew what it was like to sleep next to and wake up with Draco, he didn't quite know how he would ever sleep through the night again. "I've become worse than the obsessive fans I hate," he mused dryly.

He didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed as a gong sounded, indicating a breach in the wards around the hospital. Harry dove into bed, pulling the covers over his head and closing his eyes as Healer Goldenseal bustled out of the office with a determined stride and magically locked the doors. A muffled "eep" and the sound of scuffling made him smile wryly. He had a good idea of who had tried to sneak in to see him. Still smiling wryly to himself, Harry settled down for a restless nights sleep.

The morning brought Professor McGonagall and his current assignments. Harry was excused from class in order to acclimate himself to his altered environment. He glared at the bundle of parchment in his hands; just because he was up to date somehow on his assignments didn't mean he had an immediate knowledge of what was going on in class. Especially classes like Transfiguration with its curriculum based on progressive knowledge. Harry rolled his eyes, feeling uncharitable about having to learn all his missing assignment in order to understand his current ones. Unwilling to remain a moment longer confined to the Hospital Wing, yet unwilling to face his friends and classmates, Harry did what any self respecting Gryffindor would do. He fled. And hid in the library. He was slumped over a table, brooding silently, when a girl with curly brown hair plunked down in the chair opposite him. Seemingly oblivious to his presence, she removed a compact and checked her appearance carefully. Harry had decided to introduce himself when the girl suddenly began speaking to him.

"Saint Hedwig is the patron saint of orphans, you know."

Green eyes blinked. "I though Hedwig meant," he floundered, searching his memory for a half forgotten conversation, "battle and fight and stuff."

The girl gave him an appraising look, causing Harry to flush. "And stuff?" She snorted. "I see your time in the dungeons did little to improve your coherency. Yes, Potter, Hedwig means battle and fight _and stuff_," she rolled her eyes. "But were you the least bit religious, you would also know that there is a Saint Hedwig, who was the patron saint of orphans." She smiled at the boy before her. "It gave several of us quite a giggle once we realized what you named your owl."

Harry blinked at the girl for a moment. "Oh. I didn't know that." They sat there silently for a minute; Harry fighting the urge to squirm under the girl's assessing gaze. "Was that all you wanted to tell me?"

One eyebrow rose in an eerily familiar expression before the girl held out her hand. "Serena McGregor."

"Erm…" he cautiously accepted and shook her hand. "Harry Potter."

Serena studied him for another moment. "My family owes you a boon," she said at last.

"A what?"

"A boon," she repeated patiently. "As does the Malfoy family." Serena sighed as Harry gave her a look of incomprehension. "Look, I understand you are confused right now, but with the Dark Lord gone…" she gave him a significant look, "you are once again The Boy Who Lived To Do Incredible Things." She hesitated, looking over her shoulder briefly. "Snape, Dumbledore, the Malfoy, Parkinson, Goyle, Crabbe, Zabini, and McGregor families are solidly in your corner. I do not know what you plan to do once you graduate, but with your connections and the resources you could command without having to raise your voice… you would do well to remember that two powerful pureblood families are indebted to you."

"I," Harry faltered, frowning. "What precisely is a boon?"

Serena sighed again. "Something to be thankful for. A favor, if you will. Old magic, and one no pureblood would dare turn away from. The ministry is in chaos with the Dark Lord gone and you will not be able to," she smirked, "hide in the library forever." Harry blushed. "Look Potter, now that you are back to yourself, don't turn your back on the Slytherins. They can help you navigate the storm and even offer a measure of protection."

Harry sighed, reaching up to rub at his scar. "So you wanted to find me and tell me to stay friends with the Slytherins?"

"Partly," she agreed readily. "Pansy and I have an understanding. But mainly I wanted to remind you that every house has their positive and negative attributes. There are no perfect little Gryffindors, much the same as there are no perfect little Slytherins, Ravenclaws, or Hufflepuffs. Things are going to be weird for you for awhile."

"When are they not?" Harry scowled at the book lying on the table.

Serena inclined her head in agreement. "Be that as it may, Potter, don't be surprised if your enemies suddenly start acting like friends." Harry looked at her in confusion. "Accusations are flying, Death Eater trials will be starting soon… all it takes it the word of so-and-so to say their daughter or son is friends with Harry Potter…" she trailed off suggestively before standing and smoothing her robes. "Leaders come and go, politics and power are forever. Keep your friends close and your allies indebted." With a brisk nod she walked away.

Harry watched her go with a puzzled frown. His eyes widened as Hermione and Ron walked into the library holding a familiar piece of parchment. Cowardly, futilely, he ducked under the table. What was he supposed to say to them? He had been so blasé towards Ron as a child, frightened by the red heads family, and had clung to Hermione and called her his _Mum_ for goodness sakes. On one hand he knew they wouldn't hold the five and ten year old version of himself responsible, but on the other hand… Harry blushed, dropping his forehead onto the library floor. On the other hand, he wished he could still get away with calling the Slytherins his snakes and knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt what it truly meant to be protected and loved.

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind then he felt a strange sort of pulling and sucking sensation. He blinked when the motion stopped and raised his head warily. What now? Green eyes widened in shock at the gob smacked looks on the faces around him. He straightened up cautiously, running a nervous hand through his perpetually messy hair, and offered an uncertain smile. "Hello?"

HDHDHD

"Everything." Draco paced. "He said he remembered _everything. _What do you think that meant?"

"I think it meant that Neville was right," Greg piped up cheerfully. "That Harry is still our friend, even though he's not little anymore."

"Do stop that needless pacing." Pansy covered her eyes with the back of her hands. "Remember, you look like a Gryffindor."

Blaise scowled. "I cannot believe that Dumbledore went along with that crazy woman and forced us back to our common room."

"And at ten points apiece, a solid fifty points from Slytherin," Vince added seriously.

"I need to see him," Draco muttered. "To make sure he's ok."

"He's not five anymore, Draco." Pansy spoke gently. "You can't pick him up and give him a cuddle and expect that to make everything ok again."

Draco sighed. Deeply. "But if he remembers what I said…" he shook his head in frustration. "It was different when he knew I loved him at five and ten. It made him smile. I figured I would have more time to process him knowing my feelings as a fifteen year old. But now… he remembers every fight, every stupid taunt. Is he even going to believe I lo.. Have feelings for him?"

Greg smiled sweetly. "After spending so much time with him, Draco, we all have feelings for him."

Vince frowned in confusion. "I still don't understand. Why aren't we going to visit him?"

"We're being tactful." Blaise smiled wryly. "Giving him space to adjust. And according to mia benemato, the Hospital Wing was warded and she couldn't even get in to see him last night."

"Ha," Draco scoffed, resuming his restless pacing. "I bet Harry would have found a way around the bloody wards."

"But what if Harry was frightened?" Greg asked worriedly. "We should have given him his plushy and blanket before we left him."

Pansy valiantly bit back a sarcastic retort about teenagers still holding onto their security blankets and patted Greg's hand with an almost genuinely sweet smile. "Harry will be just fine," she soothed. "He's probably being welcomed back into the lions den as we speak."

Draco looked across the room, startled by the familiar pop of apparition. For a moment he thought no one was there, and then he stared uncomprehendingly at the huddled form with its face pressed to the floor. He knew that messy hair anywhere… and Harry was still wearing Draco's clothes, though they looked to be recently cleaned and half heartedly pressed. The Slytherins watched in stunned silence as Harry lifted his head and slowly uncurled himself off the floor. "Hello?" He looked so creepily vulnerable standing there, causing Draco to remember with a pang Harry at age five. All big green eyes and messy hair. Much like then, Draco found himself wanting to do nothing more than cuddle the boy. So he did. It wasn't until he pulled away from the hug and saw Harry's bemused smile that he flushed and realized he probably _shouldn't_ treat Harry with the same familiarity he had when the Gryffindor had been a child.

"Hi Harry!" Greg obviously did not feel the same and pulled him into a bone crushing hug before thrusting a purple stuffed unicorn into Harry's hand. "I hope you weren't scared last night," he continued happily.

Pansy grabbed Harry and kissed him soundly on both cheeks. "You were missed," she said simply.

Blaise sighed even as he crossed the room to hug the boy. "Hermione is going to kill me," he said cheerfully. "She discovered after class that you had already been released from the Hospital Wing and had plans to hunt you down. Make sure you had eaten properly, felt emotionally stable, and all that useless junk."

Harry smiled and winced as Vince pulled him into an equally enthusiastic hug. "Useless junk?"

"Of course," Draco sniffed. "Emotional stability is truly overrated. Some of the best people I know hover just this side of normalcy." Gray eyes met green and lingered momentarily, before both boys looked away.

Pansy grabbed Harry's hand and led him to his bed. "Well," she calmly began, "that is neither here nor there. Harry is obviously adjusting just fine if he found his way back to us already." Sasha hissed out a welcome; slithering up Harry's legs to wrap comfortably around his shoulders.

Draco gave him an appraising look. "You look taller."

Harry nodded, looking at the floor and scuffing his feet as he absently tossed the stuffed unicorn from hand to hand. "Yeah, I'm average now. About 68 inches, according to Healer Goldenseal. It's kinda weird, as I'm four inches taller than I was before." He smiled thinly as he absently pet Sasha. "Still too thin according to Madame Pomphrey."

"Yes, well." Pansy's mouth tightened at the mention of the healer. Slytherins were well versed in all manners of things. Including how to hold a grudge.

"And I really killed Voldemort?" Harry asked abruptly.

"Yes," a dry voice broke the sudden silence. "With a rock, no less." Draco smirked.

"I taught you how to throw," Greg piped up brightly, waving. "We practiced with snowballs. Remember?"

"Yeah." Harry smiled weakly. "You beamed Draco upside the head. Then, later, he used me as a human shield so you wouldn't hit him anymore."

Blaise laughed. "If it didn't upset you so much thinking he was hurt, Draco would have been truly attacked. He never goes out to play in the snow. Opportunities for revenge are few and far between."

"I remember." Harry absently rubbed the back of his neck. "Snow is undignified." He smiled again, looking back down at the stuffed animal in his hand. The silence stretched in the room; becoming slightly awkward and uncomfortable. "So," Harry looked up finally. "What now?"

"Well," Vince offered thoughtfully, "dinner is in twenty minutes, and then we're going to study and do homework." He smiled brightly. "But we can play after that."

"Oh." Harry looked startled over how literally Vince had taken his question.

"You can sit with us at dinner, Harry." Greg grinned.

"You daft prats;" Blaise looked amused by his housemates before turning to Harry with a slightly more serious expression. "Well," he began carefully. "I believe where we go now is strictly up to you. A lot has changed in the last month, and no matter how much you may wish it, things will never be exactly as you remember."

Harry nodded, keeping his eyes on the floor. "You and Hermione, huh?" Blaise smiled. Harry rubbed at his scar. "It feels weird to be here." He looked guiltily around the room. "I didn't, I don't. I hid from Ron and Hermione earlier," he confessed. "What am I supposed to say? How am I supposed to act around you all? I mean," frustrated, he rubbed his neck again, wondering with an absent sort of despair precisely _why_ the gesture was so damn comforting. "I mean you all saw me as a kid. I," he flushed, absolutely mortified. "We played in the snow and had coffee in bed and shared a room and everything."

Pansy patted his arm comfortingly. "You act however you want to act," she said simply. "Blaise is right; a lot has changed in the past month. We may not be friends exactly, but we're certainly not enemies. At least, not anymore. Would it make you feel better to know that Hermione and I," she paused, glancing around the room; "bloody hell _all_ of us have worried about that very same thing?"

"Seamus said if you could forgive him for fifth year, you could forgive us too," Greg put in earnestly.

Blaise looked at Harry's flustered and overwhelmed face before standing easily. "Well, enough Hufflepuff bonding moments. Let's head down to dinner."

Vince leapt to his feet. "You sitting with us tonight, Harry?"

"Probably not," he said, still looking uncomfortable as he stood and carefully arranged Sasha back in her cage. "I should probably sit with the Gryffindors, since, you know, I have been avoiding them all day."

Pansy nodded as she followed Blaise, Vince, and Greg out the door. "Ever the Gryffindor."

Draco paused by the door when Harry's hand came out and gripped his arm. He gave the brunette a questioning look; going very, very still and catching his breath as tentative fingers slid over the curve of his cheek. "Draco?"

"Yes?" He mentally cursed himself for sounding so breathless.

"Draco," Harry repeated, stepping a little closer. He gave the blond a questioning look. "Draco, I…" he paused, watching his fingers stroke over Draco's cheek as though fascinated.

"Yes?" Draco repeated, carefully stepping just a bit closer. His heart began to beat quicker as Harry bit his lip; looking adorable and rumpled and out of sorts and so indescribably Harry that Draco found himself biting his own lip to keep from shouting something he could potentially regret later. He gave a mental cheer when Harry's eyes zeroed in on his mouth.

"Harry!" Hermione's voice floated up the stairwell. "Harry are you coming to dinner? And don't you dare vanish on me again!"

Draco had never wanted to hex someone as badly in his life as he wanted to hex Hermione Granger at that moment. Harry jerked slightly at the sound of her voice, hastily dropping his hand from the curve of Draco's face. Harry looked flustered as he ran his fingers through his hair. "We should go," he mumbled to the floor.

"Go, right," Draco echoed hollowly. He felt cheated, cold, filled with an aching disappointment as he followed Harry into the common room and watched Hermione run up and hug her friend.

Pansy looked between Harry and Draco before turning a vicious glare to Hermione's back. Conversation was stifled as they walked to the Great Hall together. Pansy, bless her, proved once again why she was Draco's best friend. "So, Harry," she cheerfully began, unapologetically talking over Hermione's asinine chatter. "When are you going to hook up with Draco?"

Harry jerked slightly, turning towards the girl with a flustered expression. "I, what? Get together with Draco?"

"Umm," Pansy smiled innocently. "You will be connecting with him, right?" She batted her eyes as a flush rose steadily up Harry's face. "After all," she continued blithely, "if you leave Nagini at Malfoy Manor for too long Narcissa is likely to skin her alive."

"Get together… oh. Oh! Nagini, right." Harry darted a quick look at Draco's face, blushing fully now. The Slytherins wisely refrained from commenting. "I would be happy to… get together, with Draco. Um, I just, when?" He looked over uncertainly.

"We could go tomorrow?" Draco offered calmly, linking fingers with Pansy and squeezing tightly under the protection of the billowy school robes. "After class? I'm sure Professor Snape would be happy to accompany us. We'll have dinner with Mum. She'll be thrilled."

"Excellent," Pansy squeezed back before smiling cheerfully at Harry. "You and Draco have plans for tomorrow. It's a date."

Harry paused at the doors to the Great Hall, giving Draco an oddly intense look. "A date," he repeated softly before allowing Hermione to drag him towards the cheering Gryffindor table.

"Smooth, cara," Blaise idly commented as they sat down to dinner. "Very smooth."

Pansy shrugged negligently. "Not my fault your silly little girlfriend has an awful sense of timing."

Draco brought their still linked hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles gently. "As Harry asked me once when he was ten, we're going to be friends forever right?"

"Course we will," Pansy liberated a roll from Greg's plate. "Who knows how badly you would fuck up your life without me?"

Blaise snorted, Vince and Greg laughed, and Pansy grinned unrepentantly as she filled Draco's plate for him. And Draco… Draco glanced across the hall as he nibbled on a piece of chicken. Green eyes met gray and held; tentative smiles blooming before they each looked away. Draco had a date tomorrow with Harry Potter.


	21. A Snake Is A Snake Is A Snake

Erm... this chap got a bit long, so the date was bumped to the next chapter. (winces) Sorry!

HDHDHD

Harry winced, closing his eyes wearily and pressing cool fingers to his temples as he struggled to keep his face blank. Until this moment, fighting his way through the corridors of the school, dealing with people reaching out to pet him or talk to him or simply infringe upon his personal bubble, Harry had not realized how truly safe the Slytherins had kept him. Sure, while eating and attending classes with Professor Snape no one had _dared_ approach him out of turn, but walking around, playing outside… he had not been confined strictly to the Slytherin common room during his time as a child. And somehow the Slytherins had managed to keep the hordes of people away from him; allowing him to spend time as a child happily oblivious to his fame. Why, oh why, did returning to his sixteen year old self mean having to return to class as well? He'd only gone to two classes and already he felt ill prepared for reality, the muscles in his neck were taut with tension, and three fat guys were doing an enthusiastic Mexican Hat Dance in his head.

"Alright Harry?"

Green eyes snapped open to gaze at the red head before him. Ron had been suspiciously quiet around him, almost hesitant and oddly protective. This morning at breakfast, Harry had looked away from exchanging smiles with Draco and noticed Ron giving him a thoughtful look. They didn't say anything, though, and Harry had let himself be lead to class; choosing not to dwell on the silence. A strong arm looped around his shoulder just then, causing Harry to stagger slightly towards Ron. "Course he's all right," Vince scowled at Ron. "Unless you've done something to him?" He narrowed his eyes, removing his arm from Harry's shoulders to glare at the boy.

"No, nothing." Ron paled slightly as Greg came up on Harry's other side.

Harry grinned at the Slytherins. "What are you guys doing over here?"

Vince gave Ron one more suspicious stare before answering. "Draco, Pansy, and Blaise have Ancient Runes with Hermione on the other side of the castle."

"So we came to check on you," Greg said brightly. "Slytherins take care of our own. It's one of the first things we're taught."

"But Harry's a Gryffindor."

Greg frowned at Ron. "No, Harry's ours. Pansy said so."

Absurdly touched, Harry hugged them both, grinning widely. "Nah, I'm good guys. Bit of a headache, but I'm sure it'll pass." Vince frowned.

"We could go back to the common room?" Ron faltered slightly when the three boys turned to look at him. "I mean, it's not like Harry has a full day of class or anything. We could head back to the common room. It'll be quiet there."

Harry gave his friend an odd look. "Sure Ron." He turned back to his snakes, grinning once again. "Thanks for coming to check up on me guys. That, well, that really means a lot."

Greg grinned. "You still have your plushy right?" Harry blushed but nodded. "Take a nap or something; we'll see you later."

Vince gave Ron a threatening look, flexing his muscles for added benefit. "Make sure he rests, Weasley."

The two Gryffindors were silent as they walked the halls towards the tower. Finally, slightly awkwardly, Ron cleared his throat. "So. You and Malfoy."

Harry looked straight ahead as he walked; cringing inside at the distance between him and the boy who was one of his best friends. "Yep, seems so."

"Oh." They walked a bit more in silence. "So, is it permanent or do you just want to, you know, sleep with him?" Harry stopped and stared directly into Ron's blushing face. "I just mean," he hasted to explain, "are you attracted to him in a relieving tension sort of way, or will Mum end up making him a sweater next Christmas?"

"Tension?" Harry echoed blankly, trying desperately to quell the traitorous blush spreading over his face.

"Yeah, see," Ron grabbed Harry's arm, propelling him through the hall and towards the fat lady. "Bes," he spoke up quickly. Once through the portal, he guided Harry to one of the tables and sat him down. "Cause I've been thinking. No way is Mum going to invite him to the Burrow for Christmas this year, so you'll probably end up going home with him. Just, you know, if you guys start experimenting then you need to be safe."

Harry was fairly certain his face couldn't get any redder. "Ron…"

"Hermione's kind of treating you like she's your mum," he spoke right over Harry's embarrassed whisper, "but you're like a brother to me. You not being here this last month was way worse then when we weren't speaking back in fourth year. I'm trying to learn from my mistake. So, if you need to talk to me about sex with M-Malfoy," he nodded bravely. "I'm here for you."

"We haven't..."

"Well, of course not! You were a kid. But you probably will. And I think you'll need lube or something." Ron scratched his arm, looking a bit lost. Harry groaned and bashed his head against the table. Ron ignored the melodrama and bravely tried to continue. "So, I just need to know if Malfoy is going to be around for awhile, or if, you know, you're just going to sleep together a few times and call it good."

"I can't talk about this with you."

Ron frowned at his friend. "Course you can! We've been friends since we were eleven. I can be supportive."

Harry sighed and sat up, scrubbing his hands over his eyes roughly. Without warning he pulled back and punched Ron hard in the shoulder. "Ow, Harry! What the Hell." Harry just looked at him. "Oh."' Ron rubbed at his shoulder; flushing brightly. "So we're good then?"

"Ron," Harry sighed. "I don't know what's going on between me and Draco. It's like he's _always_ been there. Which he has. But more so than usual." He frowned. "The bastard's in my head and I can't do anything about it."

"Then we should make a list."

"A list?" Harry could do nothing more than blink at his friend as he removed a quill, ink, and parchment from his bag.

"Yep. Hermione always says you should make a list when you are confused. She's smart, so she must be onto something. So let's make a list."

And that is precisely how Hermione found them when she entered the Gryffindor common room an hour later; biting her lip until she noticed the two boys arguing companionably at one of the study tables. "What are you two doing?"

Harry and Ron immediately stopped whispering and writing on a bit of parchment; turning to their friend with identical sheepish expressions. "Nothing," they chorused.

"Nothing, huh?" Hermione eyed them closely. "How are you feeling Harry?"

Ron patted Harry on the back. "He had a bit of a headache so we came back here to hide and talk it out."

Hermione frowned, perplexed. "But I thought Harry only had a half day today? Healer Goldenseal hadn't cleared him to attend a full day of class."

"Yep. I decided Harry was more important and skived off classes." Ron nodded sagely. "Sometimes you just gotta make sacrifices for your friends." He blanched suddenly. "But if Crabbe or Goyle ask, could you please tell them Harry rested?"

"I see." Waiting until the two boys exchanged conspiratorial grins; she reached across the table and deftly plucked the parchment out of Harry's hands. "What on earth is this?"

"Harry's got a date with Malfoy tonight," Ron gave a weird smile frown. "We're trying to figure out if he really does have feelings for the snake, or if he just wants to get in his pants."

"Ron!" Harry slouched down in his seat; face brick red; utterly mortified. Hermione eyed them again before reading the parchment in her hands.

"What?" Ron gave a half hearted glare. "I'm being supportive."

**To Date or Not To Date**

**(For that IS the question)**

**1. He's shiny.**

Hermione gave them an incredulous look. "He's _shiny_?"

"Well he is," Harry muttered defensively. "He's very blond. And shiny. It's one of the first things I noticed about him." He flushed, refusing to look up from the table. "When I was five, that is."

"Nothing wrong with shiny," Ron added loyally. Hermione snorted and went back to the list.

**2. No questionable or derogatory comments about parentage or lack there of since last year.**

(Although, come on Harry, you were a kid)

(Yeah, but you weren't, and he left YOU alone, didn't he?)

**3. Took very good care of Harry when he was a kid.**

**4. Taught Harry how to swim vs. flapping around like a dying seal.**

(What does swimming have to do with anything?)

(Proves we can spend time together without fighting)

(You were still a kid, though)

(Still. He was very patient with me)

(Whatever)

**5. Admitted feelings in library in front of friends.**

(Technically under duress)

(Duress?? What are you on about?)

(Well, he could have been afraid Hermione would hit him again!)

(point)

**6. He's good at Quidditch.**

(Unless he's playing Gryffindor. Then he sucks.)

**7. He's a good kisser**.

(TOO MUCH INFORMATION!!)

(Sorry. But he is.)

**8. He's very soft. **

(Do I want to know?)

(I really like the curve of his cheek.)

(STOP IT! The cheek on his face you ass hat!)

**9. He fights well. **

(He fights dirty!)

(He's creative!)

(Are you making excuses for him??)

**10. Harry's got it bad. **

(Although, seriously, you could have ANYONE!)

(Stop it, Ron)

(What about Luna? She's blonde, right?)

(I, well. She doesn't play Quidditch.)

(Oh. Right. Damn.)

Hermione put the paper down on the table and sighed. "Harry is in an emotional quandary and _this _is supposed to be helping him?"

"It is helping him!"

"Oh really? How?"

Ron reached across the table and patted her hand. "You wouldn't get it, Hermione. You're a girl. You have too much, uh," he gestured.

"Estrogen," Harry supplied helpfully.

"Right." Ron nodded. "You need to have more, uh…"

"Testosterone."

"Right," he nodded again. "You don't have enough testosterone to get it."

"You're right," Hermione said sweetly. "_Clearly_, the one person here who has dated not one but two different people would know _nothing_ about relationships." She glared at the boys. "Yes, Harry. _Much_ better to get advice from someone who couldn't even muster up the gumption to ask someone to the Yule Ball!"

"Hey!"

"That was kind of low, Mione."

She softened instantly at the use of her nick name. "Of course, sorry. Still, you have to admit… actually," she pursed her lips, tapping the list with her pointer finger. "No, I'm not going to help you figure it out." She smiled as she handed the parchment back. "You're heading in the right direction, Harry darling. Just give it a bit more of a think."

"What else is there to think about?" Ron looked sincerely confused. "Malfoy's," he made a face, "_soft_, good at Quidditch, a good fighter, smart, competitive, and Harry's got it bad." He leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'll be listening to him call me Weasel for awhile, I just know it." Harry snorted, absently doodling on his parchment.

"Umm." Hermione smiled slightly, shaking her head dismissively. "Harry, aren't you supposed to meet Draco in Professor Snape's office in twenty minutes?"

Harry looked at her blankly before shooting to his feet. "Oh, crap, right. See ya!" With an absent wave he dashed out of the common room and down the hall. He made it to the corridor near Dumbledore's office before he ran into somebody. Literally. Rounding the corridor he plowed straight into a solidly muscled chest. "M'sorry!" Harry muttered, pulling away and placing a steadying hand on the individual's arm. "Professor Lupin?"

The werewolf smiled down at Harry, pulling him close for a tight hug. "Harry! I just came in to talk to Dumbledore about you! How are you feeling?"

"Fine, sir," he answered slowly. Harry frowned, feeling an unusual swelling of irritation towards the man who had yet to release his arm. He cocked his head, giving the professor a slightly challenging look. "Why would you be talking about me to Professor Dumbledore? Why not ask me myself? Or Professor Snape? He has been basically in charge of me for the last month or so."

Moony frowned slightly, looking puzzled by Harry's calm façade. "Are you ok? Any lingering effects? I've been really worried about you this entire time." He shook his head, looking weary and slightly upset. "I found out you'd been involved in an accident when I got Hermione's letter, walked in to see you on fire, and then…" he trailed off, frowning again. "Well, you weren't too terribly enthusiastic to see me as a child."

Harry nodded. "It was a rather confusing time for everyone," he offered. "I'll see you later, ok? I'm running a bit late." Smiling politely, he stepped around his teacher and made to continue walking down the hall.

Amber eyes blinked at the retreating form. "What, wait. Harry!" The boy turned, looking puzzled. "You're just going to leave!"

"Well," Harry shrugged slightly uncomfortably, "yeah. I have plans tonight with Professor Snape and Draco. That's where I was heading to in such a hurry." He smiled crookedly. "Snape abhors tardiness."

"I see." Remus looked down at his feet. "I don't like you spending so much time with Severus and Mr. Malfoy," he softly said. Harry frowned. Lupin raised his hands appealingly. "Not for the reasons you may think. Harry, you have a very big heart. It's easy for people to play upon your weaknesses." He gave a quiet kind of sigh, looking rather sad.

Harry jerked back as though slapped. His voice, however, was ruthlessly calm and when he answered. "You mean like with Sirius?"

Horrified, Remus' eyes went wide. "Oh, Harry no! Sirius… well, it wasn't your fault. Not at all." He took a step closer to Harry, arm extended, looking hurt as Harry took a step away. His arm fell fruitlessly to his side. "I just mean, don't let them take advantage of your desire for a family and allow them to manipulate you to their ideals."

"My…" Harry trailed off, shaking his head back and forth in denial. His voice shook slightly when he spoke again. "My desire for a family? What the hell would _you_ know about my desire for a family?"

Remus frowned. "Harry, I know you. I love you. I'm very happy that you and Severus have managed to put your past behind you and become acquaintances. But Harry," he took a firm step forward. Defiantly, Harry held his ground. "Harry he's not your family. He doesn't know you. And he… well, you'll never understand the things he went through during this war and the Dark Lord's previous reign. I fear that he may see you as the means to an end. An unquestionable way to secure a place on the winning side."

"You're wrong," Harry said softly, trembling slightly. "Snape is my family. And Draco… well, I am not quite sure what Draco is to me. But I'm going to find out." He frowned up at his old teacher. "But how _dare_ you say that to me!"

"Harry," Lupin sighed, pressing one hand lightly to his temple. "I don't want to hurt you, and heaven knows I don't want you to get hurt. I just want you to be careful who you decide to place your trust in." He smiled sadly. "I feel a certain sense of responsibility for you, after all."

"A certain sense of responsibility?" Harry repeated hollowly. "Tell me, sir, if you feel this sense of responsibility to me, then where have you been all my life?" His words were harsh, but he didn't care. He hadn't liked the man as a child, and as a teenager again… well, as a teenager he couldn't quite get past the harsh words and mind altering revelation he'd had in the Hospital Wing.

Sure enough, Lupin frowned. "Harry, I wanted you as a child. But as a werewolf…"

Harry waved dismissively, fighting off the urge to laugh when he realized he had copied the gesture straight from Draco. "I understand that," he interrupted. "I don't mean after my parents passed away and I was shipped off to the Dursley's. Dumbledore and I have talked about that. I get his reasoning, and as I remained alive all those years I can't fault his logic. However," he straightened his shoulders, wondering with a distant sort of surprise precisely when he became bold enough to ask the question that had bugged him all these years. "However," he repeated, "you came back into my life when I was thirteen. Yes, Snape made your life difficult, and yes you were forced to leave the school." He swallowed thickly. "But I thought you really cared about me. And then I didn't see you again until you came to collect me before fifth year. Even then…" he shook his head helplessly. "Sirius wrote. He broke into other wizards' houses to talk to me and let me know I wasn't alone. That he," Harry broke off, blinking back the traitorous tears. "That he loved me. If you cared about me so much, where were you?"

Moony looked shocked. "I do care about you, Harry." He spoke quietly, as though to speak too loudly would shatter them both. "I care about you deeply."

"No," Harry shook his head decisively. "No, you don't. You care about James' son, but aside from the fact that my best friends are Ron and Hermione, what do you know about _me_?"

"Harry…"

"I am not James' son!" Harry shouted. "Yes, the man fathered me, but I don't remember him. Nothing! I wasn't raised by him or by people who knew him, and never met anyone willing to talk about him until I was thirteen. I don't know how to be James' son. I'm Harry. Just Harry! And that's not good enough for you. You knew who I was, and after third year you knew where I was. But you never wrote, or tried to see me, or did _anything_. You were at Grimmauld Place! I talked to you that day in the fire place. And I'm sure you were one of the people spying on me over the summer. Hell, even over the summer going into this year. Why? Why didn't you ever say anything? Do anything? Why do I have to always be James' son in order for you to want to talk to me?"

Remus looked on the verge of tears. "Harry, you are good enough. Just the way you are. I," he gestured helplessly. "I've always cared about you, I always will care about you. It's just; it's painful to reflect upon the times I spent with your mother and father. My whole world changed when they were murdered. They were gone, Sirius was gone, we thought Peter was dead, and you were gone. I had nothing left."

Taking several deep breaths, Harry forced himself to calm down. "You're not the only one whose world changed that night," he offered quietly. Moony flinched. Harry shook his head. "Again, that's where you're wrong. I'm happy with Snape and Draco as my family. As fucked up as our relationship may be, they've been here enough to know who I am without me having to spell it out."

"Harry…"

"No," he interrupted. "It's all right. Really. I'm not even really mad at you. Sirius was my family. He loved me and tried his best to take care of me whichever way he could. And you are a friend of my family." He smiled sadly. "I appreciate the fact that you care about me, and I care about you too. But you are not my family. You don't know me. So please stop trying to act like you do."

Lupin gazed sadly at the boy before him. "How can you be so sure they aren't using you, Harry?"

He thought back to waking up with Draco and feeling safe and secure and happy. Of cuddling with Snape and talking about his mother. Draco sitting up with him when he was sick. Snape at Grimmauld Place; and his telling yet not telling about Sirius. "Because I love them." Harry blinked, reaching up to rub his chest lightly. "Aw shit," he muttered to himself. "Ron's right. I do have it bad."

Moony flinched at the casually uttered words; his eyes widening as Harry, slightly dazedly, once again started to turn away. "Harry! You can't just leave like this. Not in the middle of a fight. We need to talk this out."

"We're not fighting, sir."

"I am extremely upset that you feel this way, Harry. I really feel it would be best if you didn't back away from these feelings and discussed this with me more. If Severus and Mr. Malfoy care about you the way you seem to think they do, then they will wait for you."

"What if I don't want them to wait?" Harry smiled oddly. "Someone told me once that there was a difference between backing down from a fight and giving in." He shrugged. "That if someone is mad at me and I have done nothing wrong, to tell them to back off." He looked Moony in the eye. "Well guess what, _Professor_, I have done nothing wrong. Neither have my friends. And that's all I really wish to say to you about the matter. Have a nice evening. Tell Dumbledore I said hello." He inclined his head politely and spun on his heel; walking towards the dungeons with a racing heart and the knowledge that his father's friend was staring after him.

By the time he reached the dungeons, he was fighting tears. He slammed into Snape's office, not really caring if something fell and broke. Snape looked up, pointedly holding his watch, frowning in irritation. Draco turned as well, looking startled and worried by Harry's loud entrance. "Did you change your mind?" he asked nervously. "I understand. It's not important. We can meet later."

"I," Harry raked his hands through his hair. "What?" He looked up blankly, noticing Draco's conflicted expression and Snape's narrowed eyes. "No, no I want to be with you tonight. I just," he raised his hands helplessly. "Moony," he finished lamely.

"How was his nose?" Snape asked mildly.

"His…" Harry trailed off, starting to laugh as he remembered Snape punching Moony in the Hospital Wing. He bent double, clutching his stomach, laughing and laughing and laughing. Harry wasn't aware of precisely when his hysterical laughter turned into tears, nor was he aware when strong arms wrapped around him and held him close. He gradually came aware of his surroundings with the realization that he was sitting on the floor, wrapped around his teacher, with Draco hovering close and alternating between patting his arm and rubbing the back of his neck. "You're sitting on the floor," he offered inanely.

"Yes, well," Draco sniffed disdainfully, trying to disguise the worry clouding his eyes. "Slytherins are well used to lowering themselves when speaking to Gryffindors."

Harry smiled weakly. "Sorry," he muttered, making no move to move away from the warmth surrounding him.

"No apology necessary," a smooth voice answered. Harry opened his mouth automatically when the potions vial was pressed to his mouth, swallowing the calming potion with a small grimace of distaste. "You have been through quite an emotional upheaval in the last month; I would be rather concerned if you were calm and controlled."

"What happened, Harry?" Draco's voice was soft.

"Stupid…" He rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes irritably. "It's stupid." He looked up at Snape. "Why didn't you tell me about Sirius?"

"Sirius?"

Harry nodded. "Back at Grimmauld Place. Why didn't you tell me that Sirius was dead? Why did you beat around the bush and tell me he was at the ministry and stuff?"

Snape gave him a contemplative look before seeming to sigh softly. "And what, Harry, would that have accomplished? You were tired, sore, confused, and in desperate need of the two potions I had so thoughtfully brought with me after your mad dash from the Malfoy's. Informing you of your Godfather's demise would have only succeeded in hurting you further. Perhaps waking up the idiotic Gryffindor nature inside of you and resulting in an altercation."

"See." Harry dropped his head back onto Snape's shoulder, reaching out with his other hand to link fingers with Draco. "See, I knew you cared. Before… you would have told me. Before the accident you would have taken satisfaction in telling me something upsetting."

Draco rubbed his thumb against Harry's cheek. "What did Lupin say, Harry?"

Harry sighed, trying to find the motivation to move away from the comforting arms wrapped around him; refusing to meet anyone's eyes. "Nothing, really. Just that he was worried you were using me, playing upon my desire for a family to further your own ideals."

"And you believed him," Snape answered flatly. It wasn't a question. Draco tensed besides him.

"No," Harry said softly, refusing to look away from where his fingers linked so perfectly with Draco's. "No I didn't. And that was the problem."

"You didn't?" Still in an unemotional tone of voice.

Mutely, Harry shook his head. "I didn't," he repeated quietly. "I told him you may not have started off caring about me, but you did now. Both of you," He snuck a glance at Draco from under his lashes, pleased by the faint blush creeping up the blonds' neck. He forced himself to lift his head and stare into depthless black eyes. "I told him that you were my family. Because you said you were. You still are, aren't you? Or are you done with me now that I'm not a child anymore?"

It was very quiet in the room; Draco sensing it best to remain silent while the two stared at each other in a silent battle of wills. Snape caved first, sighing again as he stood and helped Harry to his feet. "You have a year left of school," he briskly wiped dust off himself before reaching to straighten Harry's robe. Harry let him, a tentative smile breaking across his face. "If I am going to be forced to see you on a daily basis during the year, I feel it best to be in a position to personally instruct you on proper versus improper behavior, as well as conveying expectations towards your grades. Your Potions grade, as it stands now, is unacceptable. Your relationship with Draco aside…" he trailed off, eyes softening as Harry's smile increased in size. "I have been claimed as your family, Harry. No, to answer your question, I am not _done with you_ just yet."

Harry grinned, launching himself at his teacher and hugging fiercely. "Good," he declared. "Because I am not done with you yet, either." He stepped back, turning to look at Draco.

The blond shrugged. "Don't look at me. I told you once before that anyone who sees me first thing in the morning I either keep or torture into insanity." He tilted his head slightly, pretending to study Harry. "The way I see it, you were raised by Muggles and then spent the next five years surrounded by Gryffindors." Draco shuddered slightly. "If _that_ wasn't enough to drive you insane, well," he paused, looking directly into the bright green eyes before him, "then I guess I'll just have to keep you."

Severus cleared his throat, smirking as both boys jumped and hastily looked away from the other. "If we have quite exhausted this conversation for the evening," he said dryly, "I suggest we get going. Narcissa does so hate when others are not precisely on time to meals."

Draco paled slightly, hurriedly following his teacher to the desk where the Portkey awaited them. "Come _on_, Harry. Mum's vicious when crossed."

Harry snickered as he joined the other two at the desk and reached for Snape's arm. "You'll follow me to Voldemort's side, but you're frightened of displeasing your mother?" He laughed at the unimpressed look the blond sent him.

"She's been nothing but nice to you so far, so I can see how you would question that." He reached up and grabbed onto Snape's other arm. "Wait until you do something that upsets her, then you'll understand." Harry snorted, shaking his head in amusement.

Snape's thin lips quirked in a parody of a smile as he looked at the two boys holding so trustingly onto his arms; content to allow him control. "Hestia," he murmured; activating the Portkey and sending them away from Hogwarts in a blur of color.

The Malfoy's were waiting by the French doors as the trio landed in the garden. Harry stumbled, having hated portkey's since his fourth year, and was saved from tripping over his own feet when Snape contracted the muscles in his arm and held Harry in place. He smiled briefly at the man before turning to accept Narcissa's embrace. He didn't even blink as her hand reached up to smooth errant locks of hair off his face; a fact which made her smile rather mistily. "I'm so glad you've returned to us," she greeted warmly.

Lucius stepped forward, inclining his head in greeting. "Severus, Draco, Mr. Potter." He paused. "Welcome to Malfoy Manor."

"You've already welcomed me," Harry responded nervously; nodding back to the man.

Silver eyes gleamed in amusement as he took a few steps closer to the group. "Indeed I have, Mr. Potter, but as you were a child the last time it seemed prudent to reaffirm the welcome."

"Call me Harry."

"Harry," he acknowledged. "Dinner should be tasty tonight. Seeing as the Savior Of The World has deigned to eat with a reformed Death Eater, I naturally ensured the meal would include copious amounts of Digitalis, calabar beans, and gelsemium." Draco blanched, shooting his mother a slightly desperate look. Narcissa looked amused.

Snape tightened his hold on Harry's arm almost imperceptivity. "Planning on poisoning your guests, Lucius?"

"Of course he is," Harry answered calmly. He smiled back at Narcissa. "After all, the credibility of a ten year old is shaky at best. What better way to prove to the world he doesn't belong in Azkaban than to murder his son, the Potions Master of Hogwarts, and The Boy Who Lived, the very first time they enter his home after the excitement has died down a bit."

A shocked silence met his pronouncement before Lucius threw back his head and positively roared with laughter. "Harry," Draco began, looking at his father in bewilderment. "I have never heard my father laugh like that. Are you trying to stop his heart?" He looked at his year mate curiously. "Just to continue your lessons on being a proper Slytherin: Murder in the name of politics or social maneuvers is acceptable only under carefully controlled circumstances, and with all guests understanding their role _before_ the actual event."

Harry looked up, smiling sheepishly at the Malfoy's. "Well, you have to admit it _is_ just a bit odd that I am so happy to be here. I mean," he shrugged, "who would have ever thought I would be invited to dinner and would accept; knowing I wouldn't be poisoned or shipped off to Voldemort?"

Lucius laughed again, reaching out to tousle Harry's unruly mess of hair.

And Nagini, who had been curled up under a bush, watching with amusement as her human greeted his friends, tensed as the man who used to associate with her former master approached her boy. She watched the tall blond man's arm creep closer and closer to her new master. She had to protect her human! Not waiting a moment longer, she slithered as fast as she could towards the mass of people and struck. Imminently satisfied as the hand jerked reflexively, drawing her poison out of her fangs and into her victim's bloodstream. There was something just so _satisfying_ about the taste of this blood.

HDHDHD

Woot! I did it! I managed to include a challenge representing each of the houses! (Does maniacal happy dance) So…

All the Gryffindors: Why would they select 'Bes' as their password?

The Hufflepuffs hiding in the bushes: Who's Hestia?

My studious Ravenclaws: What is so fascinating about Calabar beans?

And the dirty Slytherins: Gelsemium. Hmm. How bout that?


	22. Actions Speak Louder Than Words

Because Harry and Draco just _don't_ **DO** normal...

HDHDHD

"Unbelievable."

Harry shifted on the uncomfortable chair in the private waiting room at St. Mungo's and glanced over. Draco was still staring fixedly at the ceiling. Harry opened his mouth, decided against it, and resumed scuffing his feet on the cheap linoleum covered floor.

"Un – _fucking _– believable."

"She said she was sorry," Harry muttered; cringing as he felt the full weight of Draco's gaze settle on him. Yep, he should have kept his mouth shut.

"Sorry," he repeated sarcastically. "Nagini bites my father and it's acceptable because your snake said she was _sorry_."

Uncertain whether that was a question or a statement, Harry decided to take his own advice and kept his mouth shut; aiming a persuasive smile at his friend instead. Draco sighed and shook his head; returning his gaze to the ceiling. "It's my fault," he decided. "You asked _me_ if you could keep the snake. Not Pansy, not Hermione, _Me._" He shook his shiny blond head again, though it seemed more self reflected than anything. "Can I keep her Draco?" he mocked in a high pitched voice. "There you were with your sparkly green eyes and that damned Slytherin smile I taught you, and like the weak willed pushover I become around you I let you. Hermione tried to become the voice of reason, but oh no, I knew better than everyone." He glared at the ceiling, seeming to hold it personally responsible for his lapse in judgment.

Harry raked a finger through his hair unhappily. "At least the healers know what to do to treat him. And it was only one little bite on the hand." He paused, considering. "More like a friendly little warning not to hurt her human than anything."

"A friendly little warning," Draco repeated. He shook his head again. "And that's another thing. Your snake obviously has no taste."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you can't exactly call her particular now can you? And now my father," Draco moaned again, "has to endure the same treatment as a _Weasley_!"

Green eyes stared at the boy next to him in shock. "Draco," he asked slowly. "Are you more upset with your father being bitten, or by the fact he has to receive similar treatment to Arthur Weasley?"

Draco flushed lightly, but was saved from answering by the appearance of his mother and Severus walking into the room. Narcissa smiled wanly before moving forward to pull both boys into a warm embrace. "Draco, your father has been stabilized and is responding well to the treatment. You'll be allowed to see him in just a few hours." Draco nodded, relieved. Narcissa turned to Harry, cupping his face in her hands and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Harry, I am so pleased you remembered that Nagini had a particular venom that didn't work with regular anti-venoms."

"You will collect a sample for me," Snape ordered, black eyes gleaming with delight over a new specimen to examine and test out in potions. Harry nodded eagerly, wanting nothing more than to help in some way and relieve this crushing feeling of guilt.

Narcissa ignored the interruption. "I really must write a letter to Mr. Weasley," she mused. "Without him testing out magical and Muggle methods of treatment, Lucius may have been in more danger than he already was." Draco and Severus scowled as one; exchanging long suffering looks over the reference to a Weasley.

"Either way," Snape smoothly interjected, "there is a private café down the hall." He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small handful of coins and passing them to Draco. "As it will be several hours before you are permitted to see your father and these chairs," his lips curled in disgust, "are barely more than serviceable, I suggest you go get something to eat. If you are not back in time, I will come collect you."

"Sure," Harry nodded agreeably. "Do you want us to bring anything back for you?"

"Tea would be lovely." Narcissa made a shooing gesture, already turning back to look for another healer to harass. "Take your time though."

The walk down the hall was silent, neither boy quite knowing what to say. Entering the café, both boys ordered a coffee, a pastry, and something relatively filling. Once seated at a secluded table, Harry took a nervous bite of his Caesar salad. "How's your pasta?"

"Hideous." Draco answered promptly, pushing limp noodles around his plate with his fork. "I don't think it's even pasta. Perhaps one of their mops broke and they chose to recycle it." He gave his plate a contemplative look. "What do you think, Harry? Are these noodles or strings?"

"Definitely strings." He gave a tentative smile.

"Umm." Gray eyes flickered to the wilted salad sitting on Harry's plate. "That looks particularly unappetizing as well."

"Yep." Harry shoved the offending food to the side of the table and sipped at his too sweet coffee; absently toying with his pastry. "I really am sorry about your dad," he softly told the table top.

Draco sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know. And it's really not your fault. You had no way of knowing that Nagini thought of my father as a personal threat to your safety. And, well, even if you had," he smiled wryly. "Even if you had, you could simply claim retribution for my fathers past sins."

"I should be angry." Harry looked puzzled. "I should be angry that your father used me to get out of a prison sentence. But," he shook his head helplessly, "I'm not. I'm actually kind of…"

"Kind of what?"

Harry blushed again. "Kind of glad," he mumbled.

"Glad?" Draco looked truly surprised by that. "My father takes you to Voldemort, nearly gets us all killed, and you are _glad_ that he's not being punished for it?"

"Well," Harry took a nervous sip of his drink. "I mean, It's just." He stopped, taking a deep breath. "It would be rather weird for you to still want to date me if I was responsible for your dad going to prison."

It was Draco's turn to blush and take a sip of his beverage. "Oh."

"Yeah."

They shared another slightly uncomfortable silence. "This is crazy," Harry sighed, rubbing his damp palms on his jeans. Mustering his courage, he looked Draco in the eye. "Look, I like you. I think I've always kind of liked you, even when you were being a giant prat and I wanted to curse you until you bled."

"What a lovely image."

"Shut up, you know you felt the same way at times." He took Draco's silence as affirmation. "It's just gotten very… weird, for me lately." He reached up and rubbed at his scar. "You're in my head. Like you've always been there. I remember you as my hero when I was five, and I remember being ten and," he broke off, blushing again; toying once again with his coffee. "I like you, Draco," he repeated. "But I don't know if I like you as a teenager, since… I mean, I don't really know you."

"I see." Draco cleared his throat, pausing to sip at his coffee and glare around the room to ensure they had adequate privacy. Malfoy's simply did _not_ do public declarations of affection. And in a café at the hospital, no less? He shuddered delicately at the sheer commonness of it all. "I rather like you as well."

Harry's head shot up, green eyes widening in surprised pleasure. "You do."

"Yes." It was Draco's turn to drop his eyes to his drink. "I do. And I know what you mean about you being in my head." He scowled slightly, remembering the conversation in the library when Harry had been five. "Apparently I liked you before I admitted I liked you."

"What?" Harry looked slightly confused by that statement. Draco didn't blame him, not really. He was rather confused by the whole situation as well. He was simply better at hiding it.

"Never mind."

They both sipped their coffees and nibbled their pastries silently for a few moments, enjoying the solitude. "So," Harry carefully set his cup onto the table. "We are both in agreement that we are not done with the other, like each other, and are in each others heads. I think we should date."

Draco promptly choked on his coffee. "You think we should…" he trailed off, blushing, fumbling with a napkin to wipe up his spill. "I thought you were supposed to be a Gryffindor. That was a very Slytherin tactic you just employed. Taking your opponent off guard to gain the upper hand."

Harry grinned. "I am a Gryffindor," he explained patiently. "We like to rush into things head over feet. You appear more interested in drinking your coffee than talking to me, so I thought I would take the initiative."

"Indeed." Draco couldn't help smiling at Harry. There was just something so appealing about the idiot. "Technically, Harry, I bought you coffee and a meal. We are on a date."

"Our first date is in a café in St. Mungo's?" Harry started laughing. "Funny, I always thought of you as someone who appreciated fine food." He reached over and poked at his limp salad. "Never thought you would buy your date something nearly inedible."

"Yes, well," Draco waved a hand airily, "I didn't want to bore you. I do so detest excessive predictability." Harry's smile was warm and slightly intimate as he smiled across the table. Draco couldn't help smiling back.

"Did you mean it?"

Draco blinked at the rapid topic change. "Did I mean what?"

"That you loved me?"

Without a word Draco stood up and walked into the bathroom; fighting a blush as his chest nearly trembled from the force of his heart beats. "Draco!" Harry reached out and gripped his arm, dragging him into a cubicle and locking the door behind him. "Damn it, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to," he raked his fingers through his hair, "scare you or anything. I was just curious."

"You didn't scare me," Draco lied unconvincingly.

"Uh huh." Harry rubbed Draco's arm, frowning in thought. "See, it's, I." He paused, blowing out a deep breath. "When I was talking to Moony I may have, that is."

Draco blinked. Was that supposed to make sense to him? "Yes?"

Harry flushed again, staring down at his trainers. Draco absently remembered buying Harry's clothes in Hogsmead when he was five, and made a mental note to throw out every article of clothing the brunette currently owned and replace it. He shifted slightly, unwilling to follow that vein of thought while standing this close to Harry. In a bathroom cubicle. Harry sighed again, his coffee flavored breath tickling the hairs on Draco's forehead. "I may have told Moony I love you. And Snape." Draco froze, gray eyes widening. Harry frowned, talking more to himself than to Draco. "Course, I love you in a different way than I love Snape. That would be, well, weird. But if you don't, I mean you could have been just saying that because I was a kid, but then you said it when I was fifteen…" He trailed off, looking frustrated and rumpled and reminding Draco forcefully of the difference between a child Harry and a teenaged Harry.

"You love me?" he repeated.

Harry nodded miserably. "Which is weird, because I don't even _like_ you sometimes! But I do. I think. I think I do. But you're in my head! You let me sleep with you, and comforted me, and you're soft and shiny and creative."

"Oh." Draco's brow furrowed. "What do you mean I'm _soft_?"

"Hmm? Oh," Harry blushed again, shyly reaching up and cupping the side of Draco's face. "Your skin," he whispered, stepping a bit closer to Draco. "I really like your skin; it's soft."

Draco stared. Harry's thumb was tracing gentle circles on his cheek, they were standing close together, and Harry had just told him he loved him. Fuck it. Draco watched, slightly surprised, as his hand came up and circled to the back of Harry's neck. Harry relaxed instantly, smiling crookedly as Draco tugged gently and pressed their lips together.

Oh, but this was _very_ different from the first time he had kissed Harry. This time, Harry wasn't just standing there in shock. Oh no. This time he made some indecipherable noise in the back of his throat, opened his mouth, and slid his hand around Draco's waist; bringing them closer together. Draco made a sound he decided to deny later, and brought his other hand up to Harry's arm. Holding him in place as the world started to slowly spin around him. Except then Harry was pulling away from him.

"Sorry," Harry gasped out, taking a half step away from the blond; looking rumpled and flushed; his green eyes wide and slightly dilated.

"You should be," Draco retorted, following him and pressing him against the door of the stall. "Stop talking." Harry made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a gasp but made no move to step away from Draco as the blond once again kissed him.

The minutes slipped by, their movements getting slightly more bold, when a sudden knocking on the door drew them apart. "Are you alright in there?" A nervous sounding teenage voice asked. "It's just that you didn't finish your meal and then you both bolted to the bathroom. And you've been in there for awhile."

"We're fine," Harry called out, removing his hand from Draco's hair; his other rising to trace his kiss swollen lips.

"Are you sure?" the voice continued uncertainly. "Because on behalf of the management I've been allowed to offer you an anti-nausea potion free of charge, as well as a five Galleon gift certificate valid at any one of our branches."

"Get lost," Draco ordered, gray eyes tracking the movement of Harry's fingers. "I recommend you fire your chef and invest in a good solicitor. Freshen our drinks free of charge, as well as a proper tea to go, and we'll call it even." Neither boy moved as the sound of footsteps faded, followed by the soft thump of the door closing.

"So," Harry exhaled the breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. He opened his mouth, changed his mind, and shut it once again.

"Exactly," Draco agreed. He reached behind Harry, smiling as the boy instinctively leaned over as if to kiss him. His smile widened into a smirk when Harry blushed crimson upon realizing he was simply letting himself out of the stall. Harry watched him silently as he moved to the mirror; straightening his robe and his hair. Satisfied with his appearance, he put one hand on the door that would take them back to the café. "Harry," he called out softly. He felt more than heard Harry move up behind him.

"Yes?"

"I did mean it, you know." Harry sucked in his breath sharply. Turning, green eyes met gray and held. "I don't always like you, either," Draco continued quietly. "But I," he paused, selecting his words carefully. "But I feel this almost painful feeling of loss when you're not around. I worry about you, I think about you, I want you near me, I get insanely jealous when you pay attention to others instead of me." Harry smiled, reaching up once again to stroke the smooth skin of Draco's cheek. Draco sighed softly, leaning into the touch, letting his eyes close as Harry placed the softest of kisses on his lips.

"Great," Harry spoke lightly. "We're either in love, or we're borderline stalkers."

Draco shook his head negatively. "I don't have the attention span to be a successful stalker."

Harry grinned and followed him out of the bathroom. The poor teenager who had refreshed their beverages nearly fell over himself when he realized he may have been indirectly responsible for the poisoning of Harry Potter. The boys were still chuckling over his reactions when they entered the waiting room and saw Narcissa and Professor Snape deep in conversation. Draco went straight to his mother, handing over the tea with a worried frown. "Everything all right?"

Narcissa smiled tiredly, running a gentle hand over her son's head. "Everything's fine," she said firmly. "Your father is resting, and will be allowed to come home tomorrow or the day after."

"Wow," Harry looked relieved but surprised. "So soon? I thought for sure he would have to stay longer,"

"No, he was only bitten once as opposed to Mr. Weasley's multiple bites. They stopped the spread of poison, applied the poultice that seemed to work, and are merely keeping him for observation." She smiled at the boys again. "I am going to stay the night here and Severus has agreed to escort you back to school."

"Can we see him before we go?"

Narcissa looked surprised by her son's comment. "Yes, of course. Follow me."

Harry balked slightly as Draco grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall, but short of making a scene there was very little he could do in the way of escape. The Slytherin may have soft skin, but he had a grip like iron. Lucius looked like a sulky child deprived of his favorite toy. He lay on the hospital bed, arms crossed; sneering at the bed, the healer fussing over him, the patterns on the drapes, the inferior quality of his hospital ordered dressing robe, and the lack of his own private bath. His sneer turned into a glare when Harry entered the room with Draco. Abandoning Gryffindor courage, Harry took a cautious half step behind the blond. "Coming to finish me off?"

Draco frowned, tightening his protective hold on Harry. "Now Father," he chided calmly, "you can't blame Harry for what happened. Nagini thought you were infringing upon her territory and reacted accordingly."

"I am sorry, Mr. Malfoy," Harry looked guilty again. "She really thought you were meaning to hurt me. I talked to her and she promised not to bite you unless you really were hurting me in the future."

Snape snorted, looking unnaturally happy by this. Lucius frowned at his friend, before reluctantly breaking off into a small smile. "I suppose I can forgive you." Gray eyes gleamed with barely suppressed amusement. "Besides, I really should have known better than to make any sudden moves around you. Anyone who can take out the Dark Lord without breaking a sweat can certainly hold their own against a Death Eater."

Harry relaxed, grinning. "You really should have known better," he agreed. "You may have promised not to poison me but I didn't make any similar claims,"

"Yes, well," Lucius looked pointedly at Harry and Draco's clasped hands. "Much as I appreciate the two of you visiting me, you'd best be off to school if you are to be prepared for classes tomorrow."

Draco flushed slightly, but didn't release Harry's hand as he stepped closer and hugged his father goodbye. A brief stop at Malfoy Manor and they were back at Hogwarts, Nagini wrapped protectively around her human's shoulders. Snape hesitated in the entryway before pressing a light hand to the top of Harry's head. With a final nod to Draco, he turned towards the dungeons and left them standing there with a brief warning not to linger overlong.

It was dark in the hallway. The boys sat side by side on the steps, quietly watching the stars. "I heard a song once," Harry broke the silence, "and the lead singer compared the sky to a backlit canopy with holes punched in it." He nudged Draco gently, companionably, with his shoulder. "I've always thought stars were pretty."

"Stars are massive, luminous balls of ionized gas," Draco answered promptly. He flushed when Harry turned to look at him. "Well they are," he muttered defensively.

"Maybe so, but they're pretty."

They lapsed back into silence again. Harry leaned over and kissed Draco on the cheek. Draco turned to him, a small smile on his face, one eyebrow raised. "You do like my cheek, don't you?"

Harry grinned, scooting a bit closer to take Draco's hand. They sat there until Draco pulled his wand, cast a quick tempus, and groaned aloud. "Come on," he muttered, tugging Harry to his feet. "We'd best get to sleep or we're going to be utterly useless tomorrow."

"Yeah," Harry frowned up at the stairs; turning to Draco in surprise when the blond tugged him towards the dungeons. "What are you doing?"

"You have a bed in our room," Draco pointed out. "And as we have already determined we are not stalkers, it will be less stressful if I don't have to worry about your sleeping habits." He shrugged, refusing to look at Harry as he dragged him through the common room and up to their room. "Besides, can you imagine poor Nagini having to restrain herself from biting all those useless Gryffindors? No no. Much better to sleep in a place where snakes are revered and left alone to do as they please."

Harry followed Draco, smiling like a fool, into their room. "Harry!" Greg bounced happily on his bed. "You brought Nagini back with you! Oh good, I worry sometimes about Sasha getting lonely."

"I'm sure they'll become good friends." Vince nodded to Harry, yawning, before turning to Pansy. "Ok, they're back safely. Can we go to bed now?"

"Wait." Harry's smile widened. "Were you all waiting up for me?"

"Course we were, Harry." Green eyes widened in shock as he followed the voice to the figure on the bed. Hermione blushed in response but made no move to crawl out of Blaise's bed. "This is the first time you've left the castle without us. We were a bit worried." She tossed something to him. Harry caught the purple unicorn reflexively, looking at Hermione in confusion. "I figured you'd want to be near your snakes tonight," she explained, blushing brighter.

"We didn't want you to get scared," Greg earnestly agreed.

"A bit worried," Blaise repeated incredulously. "Pansy had to hex you to get you to stop pacing and muttering under your breath."

Pansy shrugged unapologetically before stretching like a cat and walking towards the door. "Glad you've returned safely." She kissed Harry lightly on the cheek before turning to Draco. She studied him, blue eyes widening in surprise as she took in the look on his face. "I think our little Harry may have a different sort of plushy in mind to cuddle with." Her grin grew positively wicked as both boys blushed to the roots of their hair. "Sweet dreams," she murmured; kissing Draco's cheek and smirking before sailing out the door.

It took a few minutes for everyone to settle. Vince and Greg were the first one asleep. Hermione and Blaise whispering together before they too fell silent. Harry lay in his bed on his back, looking around the room. His bedpost still glowed warmly, as no one had thought to undo the spell. Vince had reclaimed his blue fleece blanket, and the purple unicorn rested snuggly beside his pillow. It felt safe in this room, comfortable, even. Harry loved being a Gryffindor. Loved his friends, his Quidditch team, and what being a Gryffindor truly stood for. But right now… right about now he would give anything to be a snake. To be able to remain in the peaceful security of the dungeons.

A sigh from the bed next to him caught his attention. He turned on his side and smiled as Draco flopped onto his back and glared at the hangings around his bed. Looks like he wasn't the only one finding trouble sleeping. Truly, he wasn't surprised when the door opened and Pansy sailed in; dressed for bed with a change of clothes tucked under her arm. She tossed her clothes on the floor and looked at Harry impatiently. "Well?" she demanded. "What are you waiting for? Just because Hermione has decided she's a closet snake does not mean I will allow her to kick me out of the dorm. So go," she shooed him away, "go sleep with Draco. I must get at least five hours of sleep or I will look like death warmed over tomorrow."

Harry blinked at her in shock. "I, what?"

She sighed. "Get out of my bed Potter."

"But," he looked over to where Draco was watching the interaction with narrowed eyes. "But Draco said this was my bed."

"And it was," she agreed. "But now I am confiscating it."

"But…"

"Oh give it up, Harry." Draco hesitated for a brief moment before pulling back the blankets and scooting over. "Whenever Pansy slept in here before, it was always in your bed since you were sleeping with me."

Harry looked between Pansy's deliberately bland face to Draco's slightly nervous expression before smiling slightly and climbing out of bed. He stood next to his bed uncertainly for a moment, watching Pansy climb into bed and roll over with a sigh. For all intents and purposes snuggling his unicorn. Biting his lip slightly, he slowly walked over to Draco's bed and climbed in.

Oh and _this_ was certainly different from the times he had crawled into bed with him before. When he was five he had though Draco was soft – there was that word again, he thought with a smile as he snuggled down – as a cloud. He had been happy that he had friends. At ten, Harry had thought Draco was like a doll. Untouchable and unreal. Unobtainable. And now… now, burrowing his face in between Draco's shoulder blades as the blond relaxed his muscles in degrees besides him, now Harry appreciated how very real Draco was. He wasn't a cloud, he wasn't a doll, he was a living, breathing representation of… of, of something. Harry just still wasn't sure precisely what.

"Stop thinking Harry." Draco's voice made him jump. "You're thinking too loud. It's disrupting my rest."

"Sorry,' he whispered back; smiling as Draco's shoulder blades shivered under his breath. "I was just thinking about how weird it is to crawl into bed with you."

It was silent for a full three seconds. "Our first date was vile, disgusting food, shared in a cafeteria of a hospital. Our first mutual kiss was in a bathroom stall for fuck's sake. But this? Sleeping, innocently, I may add, _this_ is weird to you?"

"Erm… yeah?"

Draco sighed, snuggling deeper into his pillow. "I knew I should have gone after a Ravenclaw," he muttered. "So much easier to understand than damn Gryffindors."

Harry tightened his hold on the blond, smiling. He was still smiling as he drifted off to sleep.


	23. Somewhere I Belong

Harry woke up wincing.

Having spent the vast majority of his life sleeping alone, at some point in the night his body had rejected the presence surrounding him and moved away. Or tried to. At the same time, his body had recognized the warmth as Draco and tried to cuddle closer. As a result, Harry's legs were intertwined with Draco's and one hand was trapped between the mattress and Draco's stomach. His torso was twisted painfully, his head and left hand over the side of the mattress and nearly grazing the floor, his blood undecided over whether or not it should pool in his head or his groin. Harry opened his eyes, analyzed the aches in his body, and groaned.

Draco twitched in his sleep. With an irritated sleepy mumble he reached out and gripped Harry under his left arm and hauled him back onto the bed; shifting onto his back as Harry found himself slightly dizzy and draped across Draco's chest. He thought about protesting, moving, doing _something_ other than simply lying there; but then Draco's arm wrapped possessively around his waist. "Stop moving you cheese head," he grumbled; "it's too early to wake up." Harry relaxed instantly when a hand came down and began rubbing the back of his neck, and promptly went back to sleep.

The second time, Harry woke up slowly. Regaining consciousness before he acknowledged he was. With his eyes still closed, he gradually became aware of the soft cloth of the pillow under his head, the silky warmth under the palm of his hand, the thick inviting aroma of coffee and sugar, and the strong arms wrapped around him; one behind his neck and one on his thigh just below his bum. Green eyes flew wide open as consciousness slammed into him with a bang. He was in bed. With Draco. In bed with Draco Malfoy. And while his mind may have been relaxed and sleepy, his body processed that information in less than a second and came awake with a vengeance.

Bug. Ger.

It was painful, Harry decided, to squash that impulsive Gryffindor nature burning inside him that made him want to leap out of bed and run shrieking out the door and to the relative safety of the tower. But he forced himself to think, to relax his tense muscles, to bite his lip until he nearly screamed in order to choke back a moan as Draco shifted slightly in his sleep. Forcing himself to take slow deep breaths, he analyzed his situation. His pillow wasn't a pillow, it was Draco. Harry closed his eyes and very nearly whimpered as he realized his head was tucked into the crook of Draco's neck, and the silky warmth under his palm was the flesh on Draco's ribcage; since, _apparently_, his traitorous body hated him and had slid his hand under Draco's shirt in the night without informing his brain.

Slowly, so slowly, Harry slid his hand down Draco's chest to extract his hand. It was great that they loved each other and were comfortable enough around each other to share a bed, but Harry was certainly not ready for stupid things like reality to intrude upon their happy little bubble. His hair was worse than usual in the morning, his mouth felt like he had recently swallowed a dirty sock, his skin smelt like – he sniffed cautiously – musk and sweat and fabric softener. Draco, he noted, smelled amazing. That bastard. Harry jerked his head out of Draco's neck, utterly mortified at the way he had been sniffing the blond. _Sniffing!_ What the fuck was wrong with him?!

Cautiously, keeping his pelvis from coming in contact with any part of Draco's body, he managed to untangle their limbs and slide slowly out of bed. Finally standing, he heaved a quiet sigh of relief that Draco slept on unaware, and turned to go to the bathroom. Pansy was sitting propped up against the headboard of Harry's bed holding a cup of coffee and smirking. "That," she began, pausing to take a delicate sip, "was hand's down the most entertaining thing I have ever witnessed."

"Really Harry." Hermione shook her head, exchanging amused glances with Pansy from the safety of Blaise's bed. "Nocturnal penile tumescence is a perfectly healthy physiological response that most men experience." She grinned, taking a sip of her own coffee. "Most researchers believe it is a result of REM sleep." She smiled innocently. "I really think Draco wouldn't mind knowing you had sweet dreams while in bed with him."

"I, you." Harry stammered out; face brick red.

"You never would have survived in Slytherin all these years with such an expressive face," Pansy calmly pointed out. She looked like she was utterly enjoying herself. Harry glared at her. That bitch.

"Yes, but isn't he cute when he's all flustered and embarrassed?" Hermione gave him a fond smile, eyes dancing with laughter. Bitches, Harry decided as he stormed over to the bathroom; the whole lot of them. He slammed the door in response to their helpless giggles.

Brushing his teeth and taking a hot shower did much to improve his mood. It wasn't until he was briskly drying his hair that he realized he had neglected to bring a change of clothing into the bathroom with him. Groaning quietly, Harry pressed his head against the door. And became aware of the conversation within the bedroom.

"…think he's masturbating in there?" Harry's face flamed yet again. He was starting to really hate Pansy.

"Nah," Greg answered confidently. "It's better to do it in a bed where you can stretch out some instead of in the shower."

"Besides," Vince added seriously, "we heard the shower running. I think Harry would have put up a silencing spell if he was going to do that."

"Yes, well." Harry grinned; inordinately pleased at the flustered tone in Hermione's voice. Serves her right.

"Serves you right." Harry blinked when Blaise's amused voice echoed his thoughts. "You had such fun at Harry's expense this morning."

Silence. "You were awake?"

"Of course, Cara. I woke up when Potter's elf popped in; proud of himself for remembering the routine of coffee and pastries in the morning."

"What did you do to Harry this morning?" Draco sounded suspicious.

"Nothing," both girls protested in unison.

Harry shook his head and tuned out the conversation as he slipped his pajama bottoms back on. Mustering up his courage, he opened the bathroom door; flushing yet again as the argument immediately broke off. "Draco," he managed to get out calmly, staring at the window rather than anyone in the room. "May I please borrow some clothing?"

"Umm, but I rather like you like that." Draco grinned when Harry's flushed deepened and green eyes snapped to his face. Shaking his head, he crawled out of the comfort of his bed. "Of course you can, Harry." He frowned around the room. "In fact, we all need to be getting up and dressed if we're going to be on time for breakfast." He paused to gently caress Harry's cheek with the back of his hand before moving to arrange appropriate clothing.

Thirty minutes later they were all showered and dressed, talking companionably as they left the dormitory and instinctively turned left. Snape was just exiting his office as the group of teens approached. He raised one eyebrow and waited. Blaise gave his professor a cheeky grin. "Bathed, dressed, and outside your office by seven thirty, sir." The ghost of a smile passed thin lips before he turned and led the way down the hallway.

"You know, Draco," Pansy gave him a look of wide eyed innocence. Gray eyes narrowed suspiciously in response. "Harry's isn't five anymore." The teenagers looked confused. Pansy dropped the innocent act and smirked openly. "You needn't hold his hand in the hallways anymore."

HDHDHD

It was surreal; leaving breakfast to go to the Hospital Wing. Knowing that after a brief examination he would be heading willingly back down to the dungeons. Harry laughed quietly to himself, shaking his head in bafflement, as he climbed up the stairs. Part of him was screaming and raging in protest. This was _Snape_ he was going to go visit later; looking forward to visiting with, in fact. Snape; the man who hated him since he was eleven. Then again, another part of himself was arguing that this was _Snape_. Snape who protected him as a child, and kept him safe, and, and… well, he was still a greasy git, Harry comforted himself.

"Mr. Potter!" Healer Goldenseal came bustling forward with a warm smile. "Right on time." She reached out and gently grabbed his arm; leading him towards a bed. "Now just sit still for a moment, dear, and we'll have you out of here as quickly as possible."

Madame Pomphrey joined them, her wand flashing several different colors as she ran scans over him. "Hmm… male, age sixteen and three months; at one hundred forty pounds and sixty nine inches you are right in the fifty fifth percentile for height and weight." She gave him a proud smile. "Very good Mr. Potter."

Healer Goldenseal consulted the chart in her hand. "Blood tests came back normal, although you seem to have gained an additional inch overnight." Turning, she selected a familiar looking vial. "One more Nutrient Potion and you should be at your peak health."

"Now," Madame Pomphrey briskly checked his eyes, ears, nose, and throat. "You are four inches taller than you were before. Have you experienced a loss of equilibrium? Vertigo?"

"No," Harry turned his head when prompted so the ladies could check his reflexes. "No, I've been ok."

"Excellent!"

Twenty minutes, three pats on the head, one pinched cheek, and two lollipops later, Harry was shaking his head in bemusement as he walked out of the Hospital Wing. "Harry?" He turned at the voice, groaning inwardly as Dumbledore fell into step besides him and placed a guiding hand on his back. "A moment, if you will."

"Yes, sir." Harry sighed inwardly, but obediently followed Dumbledore to his office. He accepted the tea but declined the lemon drop, waiting expectantly.

Dumbledore smiled gently. "You are looking well Harry. Much better, even, that you did before."

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir. I'm four inches taller and twenty pounds heavier than I was a month ago." He smiled crookedly. "It's kind of weird."

He inclined his head in agreement. "Indeed it would be. And have you recovered completely from your accident?"

"As well as can be expected." Harry shrugged. "Took my last nutrient potion today, so I should be good."

"Good, good." They sat in silence for a moment, sipping their tea. Dumbledore smiled gently. "I heard about your disagreement with Professor Lupin," he said quietly; holding up his hand when Harry opened his mouth. "I daresay you are entitled to your feelings, Harry. I did not bring you here to debate the issue." Harry sighed, settling back against his chair with an unhappy frown. "I cannot, however, help but question the passion behind such statements."

"I didn't," Harry raked a hand through his hair, scowling at his tea cup. Why, oh why, couldn't he be as articulate as Draco? "I didn't mean it like that. It's just, he doesn't know me! But he acts like he does. He acts like he thinks he knows who I should be simply because he was my parents' friend! But he doesn't know me. He doesn't know anything about me. I thought he did." Harry glared fiercely at the desk, unable to look at Dumbledore just then. "Back in third year, I thought he cared about me. But then he just left. He was just gone and I didn't see him again for two years."

"I know he cares about you a great deal, Harry." Dumbledore's blue eyes were sympathetic. "Such is the nature of life that whatever choices are made, there are those who will prosper and those who will suffer." He sighed quietly. "Do you remember the end of term last year, Harry? That terrible night when so much had been lost and so many truths revealed?"

The night he'd learned of the prophecy. The night Sirius had died. "Yes, sir."

Dumbledore studied the silent boy before reaching behind him and pulling a small nondescript cherry wood box off a shelf. He hesitated briefly before placing it in the middle of his desk. "There is one last thing I did not share with you that night."

Harry gazed at the box. It was beautiful; the rich wood gleaming in the dim lighting. Flicking the briefest of glances at the headmaster, Harry leaned forward and picked it up. The box was small, seamless, looking more like a harmless block of wood than anything of real value. If it weren't for the tingle of magic that tickled his skin where he touched it, he would think the box was completely innocuous. Harry frowned; perplexed over how something so simple as a block of wood could be important to him. Especially now that Voldemort was gone. "Sir? I don't understand."

"In the 1960's, Harry, the Muggle community was introduced to a Canadian scientist by the name of Ernest M. Mcculloch. Your mother was an extraordinarily clever woman, and was intensely interested in his studies. Lily was five months pregnant when the prophecy came about and your parents first went into hiding." He paused, a shadow crossing his features as he smiled sadly. "The Fidelius Charm was not the first measure of protection your parents used. Indeed, there were safe houses and secret meetings and a multitude of spells that even the strongest and most skilled Aurors had difficulty in breaking. But they could be broken, you see; and therein lied the danger."

"Charms was Lily's best subject," Dumbledore continued softly. He sipped at his tea, sighing quietly. "The night of your birth was difficult. Three weeks prior to your birth, the stress proved to be slightly more of a difficulty than had been expected, and Lily Potter and Alice Longbottom were both on forced bed rest together in an isolated section of the infirmary here at Hogwarts. Both women were frightened for the safety and health of their children, and both were confined to their beds. They struck up a friendship, and between Lily's ability with Charms, Alice's ability with Transfiguration, and Poppy's ability to request potions from Professor Snape without awkward questions arising," he gestured. "The women came up with the box you see before you."

"Sir?" Harry looked down at the seamless chuck of wood in confusion. "Sir? I don't understand? What does this have to do with anything?"

Quietly refilling their tea, the headmaster ignored the question and continued on with his story. "Neville, as you know, was born the thirtieth of July. You followed merely an hour later, making your birthday the thirty-first of July. Two brand new children; so small and perfect. Yet the joyous celebration for new life was tinted with fear that one of these innocents would be marked and their lives forever changed."

"But Neville's life was changed too," Harry quietly interjected; studying the box with a heightened sense of respect. It had belonged to his mother. "His parents… he lost them much like I lost mine. Only worse, because mine were dead and his…"

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded, allowing the room to lapse back into silence. "Harry, do you remember me telling you last year that I have watched you more closely than you were aware of?" Harry nodded. "The day after you were born Lily and Alice arrived in my office and entrusted that box to me. You see, the topic of research the scientist followed was in the area of stem cells."

"Stem cells?" Harry frowned, completely confused.

"Yes," he repeated simply. "Stem cells." He shifted slightly, making an involuntary reach for the box before catching himself. "It's a confusing science and one, I admit, I am not well versed in. What the ladies chose to share with me, however, is that they had collected cells from both yourself and Neville, and preserved them inside this box. Should you or Mr. Longbottom have a medical need for them, the box would open." He paused again, smiling slightly at Harry's shocked expression. "Look around, Harry. Do you see anything different in my office from when last you were here?"

It took a moment. Harry looked around, smiling at Fawkes. The books, the random assortment of papers spread about, the comfortably faded chairs. "Wait." He frowned. "The whirly swisly," he gestured vaguely, "thingy's are gone."

A full smiled appeared this time. "Yes, Harry, the 'thingy's' are gone." He steepled his hands under his chin. "Harry, by now you have learned that one thing the magical community is good for is manipulating other forms of magic or other materials to gain the desired result. Yes?"

"Yes." Harry sounded cautious.

"All those years ago, on that terrible Halloween in Godric's Hollow, I returned to my office after placing you with your relatives, and I realized that in my office I held a tool that would be most beneficial to my needs."

"This box." It wasn't a question.

"That box." Dumbledore sighed, looking weary and sad. "There was little I could do to manipulate your situation, as I had sworn not to interfere until you were of proper school age and I needed Petunia to accept you in order to seal the blood wards. But with your mother's magical signature, a hair removed from your father's Invisibility Cloak, and the pulse of your own magic from the confines of the box, I was able to establish many instruments that aided in my ability to watch you. Devices that enabled me to allow teachers to step in at certain times, to place Miss Figg in your neighborhood and gently manipulate your aunt into seeing her as a babysitter. Ones to monitor your connection with Voldemort, your mood, your location."

Harry's lips parted as he stared at the pensive man before him in shock. "In other words, Big Brother was watching."

Dumbledore chuckled. "If you wish. Harry, I have felt a certain sense of… responsibility, for you, all your life. I was so desperately proud of all your parents accomplished. I was there the night you were born. The first year of your life, Professor mcGonnagal and I watched you and Neville grow up in pictures and letters. It hurt that I was unable to keep you; that I had to place you with people who had not been privy to your first steps. People who didn't know why large dogs made you laugh, that you knew how to manipulate your mother into giving you chocolate ice cream," his eyes twinkled brightly. "And that you once crawled around this very office with a young Neville, found my stash of lemon drops, and had such a sugar rush you wouldn't go to sleep until well after midnight." He sighed again. "I have always loved you like family, Harry, and have never been able to fight the impulse to protect you."

Green eyes glistening with tears dropped to the floor as Harry struggled to control his emotions. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because I have destroyed the instruments," was the calm reply. Harry's head jerked up, startled. Dumbledore smiled again. "Sometimes the best revenge is also the best decision."

"Sir? I don't understand."

"It's quite simple, Harry." He nodded to the box. "Sixteen years ago your mother gave me that box. She was entrusting me with the most precious thing in the world to her. You. And now, with the threat of Voldemort slowly starting to fade and only one year left in your schooling, I am giving it to you." Harry still looked confused. "It is time for you to trust yourself, Harry. I wish, with all my heart, for you to be in control of your own future."

"I." Harry's throat closed over; his fingers clutching involuntarily on the box.

"Sometimes the best revenge is also the best decision," Dumbledore repeated softly. He stood, coming around his desk to sit in the chair next to Harry and clasp the boy on his shoulder. "No matter the indignities you have overcome, and the ones you still inevitably will," he gestured to the box again. "Please always remember that the wonderful, magical, maddening, enduring things are born from love and grow from love." He smiled gently at Harry, running a paternal hand over his hair. "So many mistakes, so much pain. Yet, years from now, should you have the need, it will be proven once again that those that love you never really leave you."

HDHDHD

The rest of the afternoon was a blur for Harry. He went to the dungeons, showing Snape his papers clearing him to return to a full day of classes the next day. Exhausted from the emotionally draining conversation, he hadn't protested when he was directed to the office, settled down upon the couch, and ordered to rest. He slept fitfully. Weird dreams about his mother crying tears of joy and sorrow as she tried her best to prepare her son for a future he may never get the chance to experience. Dreams of Lupin when he was merely thought of as the new DADA professor; the look in his eyes as he learned what Harry heard when the Dementors were near him. He dreamt of Neville; the expression on his face when he ran into him, Hermione, Ginny, and Ron at St. Mungo's that Christmas. The dimness of blue eyes and the tear that slid from Dumbledore's face as the prophecy was revealed last year. He dreamt of Sirius; the disappointment in his gaze when Harry refused his help during the Tri Wizard Tournament; the fierce love as he hugged him goodbye last Christmas. And he dreamt of Draco; the fights, the emotions, their disaster of a date.

If, according to Dumbledore, the best revenge for all the pain he'd experienced was to live his own life and be in control of his future… how? What was he supposed to do? He was still pondering that later that night as he camped out on Draco's bed; ink and parchment surrounding him. Draco entered the room, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline as he surveyed Harry and his accompanying mess in his personal space. "Whatever are you doing?"

"Erm…" Harry looked at his mess in vague embarrassment. "Homework?"

Draco nodded, leaning down to kiss Harry sweetly. He pulled back, smiling, and caressed Harry's cheek with the back of his hand. "Now what are you really doing?" he asked gently.

"Writing a letter to Moony."

"The werewolf?"

"He's not just a werewolf." Harry frowned at the blond, rolling onto his back to gaze moodily at the top of the bed hangings. "He was one of my parents' best friends and he's my… I don't know." He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his eyes. "I don't know what he is to me and that's the problem." Draco kicked of his shoes and joined Harry on the bed; one hand automatically reaching up to rub the back of his neck. Harry sighed again as he relaxed into the offered comfort. "How do you live?"

"It's quite difficult," Draco responded dryly. "Being as breathing and blinking are involuntary reflexes. Then, of course, there is providing one's body with proper nourishment…"

"Shut up you prat." Harry rolled his eyes as Draco smirked. "I mean, how do you seize control of your life?"

Draco frowned, turning Harry's head until they were nose to nose. "Did someone hurt you?"

"Yes. I mean no. I mean," he raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. "This has been the most aggravating day."

Soft kisses were pressed over his cheek, his jaw, his closed eyelids. Harry sighed. "I learned today that my mother provided the tools to help Dumbledore look over me all these years," he started quietly; one hand clenching convulsively in Draco's shirt. "And was reminded that the ones who love us never really leave us. Then Dumbledore told me he wished with all his heart for me to be in control of my life."

"Ah," Draco tightened his hold around Harry.

"Yeah," he answered miserably.

They lay there quietly, ignoring the other snakes as they trooped in laughing and talking. "Harry," Hermione was giggling with Blaise even as she chided him. "You can't hide from Gryffindor tower forever."

"I'm not hiding." He didn't have to open his eyes to know Draco was smiling. "Draco and I are simply having a philosophical discussion."

"Lying down on his bed?" Pansy smirked at them. "So that's what they're calling it now."

"Philosophical discussion?" Hermione's eyes brightened with interest. "About what?"

"Life or something like it."

"Hmm." Greg frowned. "You mean like deciding if you want to get up in the morning or not?" He nodded sympathetically. "I do that sometimes too. Caffeine helps. Big time."

"Sometimes it's harder to get out of bed," Vince added seriously. "On those days it's best to threaten a first year or two. I can go get some for you if you want to practice?" he offered helpfully.

"Oh, uh, no thanks Vince." Harry smiled, rubbing his cheek against Draco's before reluctantly sitting up. "I'm talking more along the lines of knowing what you want to do with your life."

"Harry," Blaise came near and clasped his shoulder encouragingly. "No one knows what they want to do with their life."

"Not true." Pansy tossed her head. "I fully intend to grow up, marry a millionaire, have him die by just this side of legal circumstances, and use his money to take over the Ministry of Magic."

Blaise blinked. "Except for Pansy," he corrected. "Everyone else is simply intent on not flunking out of school."

"But is that really living?" Frustrated, Harry climbed off the bed and started pacing. "This last month… I mean. Gods! I've done more in a month than I have _ever_ done. I got a pet, I made new friends, I started dating."

Greg waved his hand in the air. "You got rid of the Dark Lord," he added.

"Right. That too. But what am I supposed to do now?"

"Harry," Hermione grabbed him, pulling him close in a tight hug. "Even I don't know what I want to do with my life. My mother didn't marry my father until she was nearly thirty because she had no idea what she wanted to do in life." She patted his back comfortingly. "Just don't live life afraid of your own shadow and you'll be fine."

"Wasn't that boy afraid of his shadow?" Vince frowned. "The one who kept taking the anti-aging potion?"

"Honey I told you," Pansy reached out and patted his hand. "Peter Pan wasn't real."

"And besides," Greg added. "He was more afraid of growing up."

Harry blinked. And then started laughing. "Today probably isn't the best day to get into a discussion like this, is it?"

"Probably not," Draco agreed; coming up behind him and wrapping him in a backwards hug. Harry sighed, letting his head fall back onto the blonds' shoulder. Draco kissed his neck. "Best wait till you've at least graduated before trying to tackle the really big questions."

"Good gods above and below." Pansy rolled her eyes in exasperation. "You lot truly are Hufflepuffs aren't you? Harry, love," she smiled at him; indulging in her own inner Hufflepuff enough to cup his cheek. "Don't stress on it overmuch. You have a place here with us and that's all that matters for now. Everything else is merely details."

And that, Harry decided, as he watched his friends cluster around him in support, was simply that.


	24. Reestablishing Routine

The return of Harry's age brought with it the return of Harry's insomnia. After the emotional ups and downs experienced since regaining his proper age, it was almost expected to find him meandering about. Only this time was different than usual. For instead of wandering the halls in brooding silence, he wandered in companionable silence with Draco by his side. "I don't see why you felt you had to come with me," he grumbled good naturedly; accidentally on purpose swinging his arm near the blonds'. "I just needed to get out and stretch my legs a bit."

Draco looked amused as he let Harry entwine their fingers. "I'm hungry."

Harry sighed; accepting that as the only answer he would receive as he steered them towards the kitchens. A brief interlude with overly enthusiastic house elves later, Harry and Draco sat side by side at the table with large mugs of hot chocolate and a platter of biscuits. "So," Draco carefully wiped crumbs away from his cloak. "Are you going to tell me what has you so restless?"

"What makes you think I'm restless?" Harry fidgeted at the table. Draco gave him a pointed look. Harry flushed. "Ok, so I'm a bit restless. I just," he frowned, absently raking his fingers through his hair. "I feel a bit empty. Unfulfilled. Like a part of me is missing."

"Because of your connection to the Dark Lord?"

"Yes and no." Harry ground a biscuit into dust as he thought his answer through. "I mean there's that, naturally, but it's more…" he sighed expressively. "It's more that everything has changed so much in the last month."

Draco shrugged elegantly. "I can hex you and go call Hermione a Mudblood if it makes you feel better." He frowned to himself. "No, that's far too predictable." He brightened, grinning smugly. "I'll go do something ridiculously Gryffindor and lock you up in the tallest tower of a hidden castle and say you've been kidnapped by Dark Lord supporters. Then, being the brave and selfless individual I am, I will rescue you and awaken you from an enchanted sleep or some such rubbish."

Laughter bubbled up. "No. But thanks for the offer."

"Harry," it was Draco's turn to sigh. "It doesn't necessarily make sense to me either. One minute I'm drinking with my friends plotting how not to become Death Eaters… the next I'm realizing I don't want to hex you to death out of pure aggravation. It was a rather unsettling realization."

"Thanks."

"Anytime." Draco grinned. "If it makes you feel better, Hermione has been spouting off parenting and human behavior textbooks like you wouldn't believe. For once in your life you are behaving in a disgustingly normal fashion. I have it on good authority that you wouldn't be human if you didn't feel this surplus of emotion."

"Yeah well," Harry shrugged again. "I never felt human anyways."

"Meaning what?"

"It was in one of Mione's books." Harry smiled sheepishly as he absently stirred at his cocoa. "The Iliad. She'd left it open on the chair and I glanced at it while pretending to work on my Potions assignment." Draco smirked at that. "There was a description in it of 'a thing of immortal make, not human, lion-fronted and snake behind, a goat in the middle.' I used to think that maybe I was a chimera."

Gray eyes blinked. "A chimera."

Harry looked up sharply to make sure Draco wasn't mocking him. "Yeah. You know," he gestured awkwardly, nearly knocking his cup onto the floor. "Mixed up between Gryffindor and Slytherin and Voldemort."

"I see." Draco looked solemn. "And, naturally, you concluded that the Dark Lord's presence in your life was synonymous to a goat."

A blush rose steadily up Harry's neck. "I never said it made sense," he muttered defensively. He drained his cup in one gulp before standing and grabbing Draco's hand once again. "Come on. Let's go back to bed."

Draco nodded earnestly; easily keeping stride with Harry as they wandered back to the dungeons. "Oh yes," he agreed casually. "I firmly believe philosophical discussions are best discussed lying on a bed."

Determined to avoid the same embarrassment when waking up with Draco for the second time, Harry came up with the idea to set an individual alarm to chime directly in his ear. At five in the morning. Groaning quietly when the annoying chime interrupted his dreams, he irritably waved the charm away and opened bleary eyes. Well, he decided ruefully, at least this time he'd managed to stay on the bed. Though he usually slept on his stomach, this time Harry was the one lying on his back while Draco used his chest for a pillow. He could feel warm puffs of air across his pectoral muscles, strong legs intertwined with his own, and a warm hand pressed to the side of his stomach while Draco's other arm had slid underneath Harry's pillow. Harry grinned dopily to himself as he tensed his muscles in preparation to slide out from under the blond; who knew Draco was such a cuddler?

"Are you seriously going to leave the bed at five in the morning?"

Green eyes opened wide at the irritated sleepy mumble. He glanced down at the blond in his arms. Draco's eyes were closed, body still, breathing deep and even. "Umm, what?"

A snort of laughter. "Harry, I thought you had your memory back?" While Draco's voice may have been quiet, the volume did nothing to distract from the open amusement expressed.

"I do."

"Well, if that were true, I have a question for you." Draco shifted slightly, raising his head from Harry's chest to settle on the pillow next to him. He finally bothered to open his eyes. "If Granger can wake up every single person in this dorm by simply opening up a door the wrong way…" he trailed off suggestively; smirking. "Do you really think I would sleep through someone shifting and trying to bumble their way out of bed?"

Harry bit his lip, thinking about how difficult getting out of bed yesterday had been. The innocent way Draco's hand would fall or his leg would shift, the awkward positions Harry was forced into in order for his groin to stay well away from Draco. He looked into laughing gray eyes and glared. "You bastard."

"A claim I have never denied."

"Do you know how long it took me to crawl out of bed?"

"Sixteen minutes."

Harry paused. "Really?" He frowned. "Didn't seem like that long."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Harry, I think you're missing the point."

"Well, what's the point then?" He knew he was sulking, but damn it! It was bad enough knowing that Pansy and Hermione had made fun of him while Blaise was awake. Knowing Draco had been aware of his…situation took his embarrassment to a whole new level.

A single eyebrow lifted before Draco smiled and rubbed his leg restlessly. Oh. Oh dear. Harry had forgotten in his embarrassment that their legs were intertwined. He sucked in a sharp breath. Between the leg rubbing against him and the mouth on his neck… "Draco, what are you doing?"

"Providing motivation." Little kisses were pressed to his neck as one hand slipped under the waistband of Harry's pajamas.

Harry arched before he could think not to. "Oh." He bit his lip, sliding one hand around Draco's hips to keep the blond close. "Motivation for what?" He winced at the slightly breathless quality of his voice. But Draco didn't seem to mind, if the way he lightly clenched and released his fist before sliding his hand up and down in a smooth motion was any indication.

"Motivation to stay in bed."

"Oh."

"Umm." Draco drew the sound out, making it one long hum of pleasure that Harry found indecently arousing. "See;" though Draco's face was flushed, he seemed quite pleased with the fact he was capable of cohesive speech while Harry lay there gasping. "I gave it a bit of thought while you struggled to get out of bed yesterday. Being the inate Gryffindor you are, you probably decided you didn't want me to see you all rumpled and sweaty and sleepy and," he broke off when Harry moaned. "But you see Harry," his voice sounded strained when he was finally able to continue. "I _like_ you rumpled and sweaty and sleepy. And you've already seen me when I first wake up, so I don't need to have you killed."

Harry bit his lip and he arched into Draco. "But…"

"I'm not a Gryffindor, Harry." Draco's voice was definitely huskier. "I'm a Slytherin. I had all day to plan how to get you over your embarrassment." Glazed green eyes opened to find Draco watching him and his reactions in fascination. Draco bit his lip before continuing. "I decided waiting until you were asleep to set up a silencing spell and then trapping you under the weight of my body would be a perfect way to get you to stay in bed."

"Good plan," Harry panted out before reaching with his other hand and pulling Draco into a kiss; all worries over such stupid details as morning breath and sweaty skin and reality fading to the back of his mind as the wet warmth of Draco's mouth and the firm pressure of his hand took precedence. And then his body was trembling, his breath catching in his throat, and a strangled sort of whimper escaping as Draco tore their mouths apart to gasp into his neck; an answering sticky warmth spreading on his thigh.

They lay there, breathing harshly, before Draco collected himself enough to reach through the hanging on the bed to retrieve his wand. A few whispered spells later and Draco tossed his head smugly as he lazily stretched. "So," he asked blandly. "Are you sufficiently motivated to not try and sneak out of bed?"

Harry stared at him, laughter bubbling in his throat. "Good plan," he repeated, before draping himself across Draco and promptly going back to sleep.

HDHDHD

Pansy fussed with her hair; preening before the mirror as she waited for the last of her boys to finish getting ready to face the day. "Harry," she called out, offering a disturbingly sweet smile. "Should you ever decide to become a Dark Lord, please allow me to pick out the outfits you have your minions wear. OK? Thanks love." She blew him a kiss, calmly straightening her robe as Harry gaped at her.

"When I what?"

Draco looked thoughtful. "Perhaps silver robes? They're flattering and make me look ethereal. What?" he asked defensively in response to Harry's incredulous look. "It's important to project a certain sort of image."

"Where's Hermione?" Harry looked around desperately. She would tell them to stop this nonsense.

"Library," Blaise answered sympathetically.

"And the masks," Greg piped up helpfully. "Remember? You said the masks were guaranteed to cause blemishes."

"So I did." Pansy gave Greg a proud smile. "No masks, Harry. Have one of your minions create a custom glamour or something."

Harry looked bewildered as they left the common room and swung left. "I'm not going to become the next Dark Lord."

"You never know." Draco gave a non committal shrug as they walked side by side down the hallway. "You really don't have any plans for the future. You may wake up one day and decide you want to rule your own sovereign nation." He frowned, turning to Harry with a dark look. "However, I refuse to merely be a minion."

Desperately latching onto Snape's arm, Harry pointed accusingly at his friends as they turned towards the Great Hall. "Snape won't let you turn me into a Dark Lord."

A single eyebrow rose in response. "Pardon?"

"When Harry grows up he's going to take over the world," Vince told his professor seriously.

"And Draco's going to be his Head Minion," Greg piped up cheerfully.

Blaise held up his hands appealingly. "I simply go with the flow. But after throwing my lot in with Harry, I won't abandon him if he grows up and goes crazy."

"Thanks Blaise."

The Italian grinned, clapping Harry companionably on the back. "Anytime, Amico."

Snape gave the students a quelling look. "Potter is not going to grow up and become the next Dark Lord." Harry looked smug.

Pansy pouted. "But The Dark Lord Potter has such a commanding ring to it. And with the proper wardrobe and accessories, no one would realize he was dark until after he'd overthrown the government."

Harry looked confused. "I thought you were growing to grow up and use your millions to take over the Ministry of Magic?"

"Well, yes." Pansy sighed as though this were the most obvious thing in the world. "Haven't you learned anything over the years? A good Dark Lord has well placed minions. I don't want my routine to be unnecessarily disrupted, so if I take over knowing which departments you are going to eventually control it will ensure a smooth transition."

"I," Harry opened and closed his mouth several times; completely unable to come up with any sort of response. Giving up, he shook his head slightly and headed to the Gryffindor table.

"Morning," Ron greeted, before taking a healthy bite of eggs.

"Good morning," Harry responded absently. He shared a smile from across the hall with Draco before loading up his own plate.

"What were you talking about?" Hermione asked curiously as she slid into the seat next to him. "I joined you guys in time to hear Pansy saying something about having well placed minions?"

Harry gave her a betrayed look. "Oh, nothing much. After you ditched me this morning the snakes decided I was going to grow up and become the next Dark Lord. Pass the bacon, please."

Neville smiled as Ron choked and Hermione dropped her tea cup. "Well," he casually passed the platter of bacon, "if you need a good Herbologist to further your reign, I'll happily offer my services."

"But would we have to be called minions?" Ginny asked critically. "Couldn't we just become Potter's Army or something?"

Classes flew by for Harry in a blur of colors and sounds. It was odd, he reflected as he trudged wearily through the halls behind Ron and Hermione; it was harder to acclimate going to class now than it was adapting as a first year. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that for the last month school work had consisted of making pretty potions with Snape rather than climbing the endless array of staircases and forcing his brain to engage over material he could really care less about. Or, perhaps it had something to do with the fact that the only class he had with the Slytherins was after lunch. Or maybe it was due to the fact that people he never spoke to before this year were smiling and waving at him in the halls. Anthony Goldstein even flagged him down to give him a book on the history of pirates since he had so loved his stories as a child. Whatever.

By the time Transfiguration with the Slytherins came, Harry was exhausted from the overwhelming stimulation. His face hurt from smiling at professors and students, his shoulders ached from the unfamiliar weight of his book bag and the endless thumps on the back his friends had given, and his head was pounding from the realization of how very far behind he was as well as the sheer cacophony of noise surrounding him. Harry's shoulders slumped when he considered precisely how many overnight study sessions would be in his future. Sure, his homework had somehow been completed and turned in for credit, but that did nothing to assist him in the practical application of spells. And in a curriculum where mastering one spell helped to master the next… He was so irritated by that point he couldn't even be bothered to feel embarrassed for clinging to Ron in the hallways as the burly red head cleared a path through all the grateful students and enthusiastic well wishers. If he had known killing Voldemort would make him the most popular boy in school, Harry certainly would have waited to off the bastard until after graduation.

Gray eyes narrowed as Harry entered the room and slumped bonelessly into the seat next to him. "Are you all right?"

"I'm screwed." Harry's voice was muffled as he tried unsuccessfully to burrow into his desk. "So very, very screwed. Do you realize the amount of spells I have to learn? And no pressure to get caught up, my ass! If I don't get caught up I'll be behind for forever. Forever and a day. Forever and a year. Forever and a century. I'll never sleep and never graduate until I slowly lose my mind and continue to haunt the halls of Hogwarts as a ghost. Wailing pitifully. Forever."

"Bit overwhelmed?"

Harry lifted his face and glared at Pansy. "I'm screwed," he repeated resentfully. Not even Draco rubbing the back of his neck alleviated his stress level.

:Yes, yes," Pansy waived it off. "Forever. I heard you. But Harry darling you keep forgetting you're not just a Gryffindor anymore."

Greg looked confused. "Are we already starting to call him Dark Lord Potter?" He ignored Draco's laughter and gave Harry an earnest look. "Can I call you Dark Harry instead? Since we're friends?"

"It would be Lord Harry," Vince corrected with a frown. "And we could only call him that in private or it would undermine his authority." Pansy beamed at him in approval.

"I am not going to be the next Dark Lord!"

"Thank you for that assessment, Mr. Potter." Harry flushed, dropping his face back onto his desk with a thunk as Professor McGonagall's disapproving voice reached him. The teacher pursed her lips and frowned at his sprawled form. "It is understandable that you will be a bit behind, but do attempt to pay a modicum of attention in class."

"Don't worry about her, Harry," Ron leaned across his desk and whispered as soon as the teacher headed towards the front of the class. "She's been out of sorts since Snape had to fix you after she helped break you."

"Are you ok?" Hermione's face was tight with anxiety as she looked at his pale face.

"I'm fine," Harry answered automatically; scrubbing a hand across his face. "Just, you know, first full day back and all. It's a bit more difficult than I thought it would be."

"Mr, Potter!"

Harry snapped to attention. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Kindly come up here and demonstrate the proper wand movements needed to reverse the goldfish to beaver spell."

Resignedly, Harry got up and walked to the front of the class. Where he encountered yet another obstacle in his already overwhelming day. "Well, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall's face softened as she realized she was being a tad overzealous. "It's a relatively simply wand movement."

"Umm, Professor?" Harry's face flamed with embarrassment. "I don't have my wand."

The Slytherins scowled, Ron looked confused, Hermione gasped and covered her mouth while blushing profusely, and McGonagall looked utterly shocked. "Your wand?"

"No, ma'am."

"How long has it been missing?"

"Umm, I don't really know." Harry ran a nervous hand through his hair. "I used Draco's wand at the Manor, and haven't needed to cast any spells since. Maybe Professor Snape has it?"

"Oh." Perplexed, Professor McGonagall looked at the caged beaver on her desk. "Well, off you go then."

"Ma'am?"

"To Professor Snape." She sighed, making a shooing gesture with her hands. "Go retrieve your wand. Make haste now; no dilly dallying about in the hallways."

Hermione squeaked slightly, shifting guiltily in her chair. Harry exchanged shrugs with Ron, smiled at Draco, and walked out the door. He made it to the second floor before he tripped over his own feet and fell down the stairs. "Great," he muttered to himself; not feeling at all inclined to move from his slightly uncomfortable position on the cold stone floor. "Just great. I'm trying to become a ghost at Hogwarts even sooner than I anticipated."

"Pathetic."

Harry craned his head, wincing at the blond walking down the stairs towards him. He scowled half heartedly as he accepted the hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. "What are you doing here?"

A single brow rose in amusement as Draco straightened the Gryffindor's clothing and healed the cut on the side of his face. "I reminded Professor McGonagall that you were surprisingly vulnerable without your wand. She sent me to look after you."

"I'm _going_ to get my wand, though. I'm only vulnerable on the trip down here."

"One would think. However, since I know Professor Snape doesn't have your wand, I still maintain my claim of a higher than normal level of vulnerability." Gray eyes swept over the staircases. "Naturally, I am correct."

Harry stopped walking. Draco didn't. "What do you mean Snape doesn't have my wand?"

"Precisely that. It's really not an inordinately difficult concept to grasp."

"But. But how do you know he doesn't have it?"

"Easy." Draco shrugged. "Gryffindors attempting to hide their emotions should be studied as an exercise in futility. The minute you announced you didn't have your wand Hermione realized she had taken it away from you when you were five for safe keeping." He looped a strong arm around Harry's shoulders and directed him towards Snape's rooms. "Momus." The door opened. "You need a break, however, so I thought we would take this opportunity for a bit of tea before you dragged yourself through the rest of your crappy day."

Harry sighed as he flopped into the chair in front of the fireplace. "And this day started out so well, too." Draco simply grinned and settled himself on Harry's lap.

HDHDHD

The brief reprieve from class was precisely what he needed to recharge his batteries and make it through the end of the day. "I did it!"

Neville laughed along with the rest of his roommates as they made their way to dinner. "Good job Harry, I knew you could do it."

"Knew he could do it?" Seamus snorted. "He finished a day of school, not climbed Mt. Everest."

"Yes, well," Ron slung a protective arm over Harry's shoulders. "Harry's been through a lot. We need to be encouraging. Protective factors decrease the risk of traumatic events from generating PTSD or other disorders such as depression and suicidal or violent behavior." He looked quite pleased with himself. "What?"

"Hermione's been hanging out with the snakes," Harry said wonderingly. "How did you retain that?"

"She lectured us all numerous times on what to do to make this transition as easy as possible." Ron shrugged. "You're my best mate. I wanted to make sure I didn't fuck you over on accident. So I read her stupid books."

"Is that why you were so nice about Draco coming to get me earlier? To support me?"

"Well, there is that." Ron shrugged. "But mostly because it was easy to see it was her fault you didn't have your wand." He grinned. "It's always nice when she's not so bloody perfect, yeah?"

"You eating dinner tonight with us or the Slytherins?" Dean interrupted.

"Erm…"

"It's ok," Ron interjected knowingly. "After a traumatic event, the person experiencing it needs time, support, and a sense of safety to re-establish trust. Experiences that have traumatized a person will usually cause anxiety, which might include an increased need for physical and emotional closeness, fear of separation, difficulties sleeping, loss of appetite, bed wetting, or changes in interactions with others." He smiled; looking eerily like Percy for a moment. "If you need to spend more time with the Slytherins until you readjust, we can support that."

The boys exchanged amused looks. "Wow, Ron," Harry grinned, "you sound like you really learned a lot." Ron nodded smugly.

"And should Harry start wetting the bed?" Seamus questioned innocently. "How will you help him through that?"

Ron paled slightly. "Umm…" He brightened. "We can make another list!"

Harry was still laughing as he headed across the hall to sit with the Slytherins. His smile widening as he saw a contrite Hermione sitting next to Blaise holding a familiar piece of Holly.

HDHDHD

It took his snakes half an hour to work out a viable schedule that would allow for studying, Quidditch, sleep, and basic human interaction. Leaving the library at nine thirty that night with Draco by his side, Harry allowed himself to feel cautiously optimistic that he may not have to die an unfulfilled spirit after all. "You don't need to walk me to Gryffindor tower," he teased. "Or wait; did our impromptu study session constitute our second official date?"

"Credit me with some class, Harry." The blond scowled slightly as he shifted the books in his arms. "I sincerely worry about the future of Gryffindors if a date inside a school would be considered a likely setting for a proper date." He paused, mulling this over. "Actually, that really wouldn't surprise me."

Harry nudged his arm playfully as they rounded the corner. "Shut it, you." He blinked, confused, when Draco abruptly reached out and lightly clasped his arm before the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"I need to finish something." Draco squeezed Harry's arm encouragingly. "Head on in. I'll see you later."

Harry's face fell. "Seriously?"

Draco smiled faintly. "Seriously."

"All right," Harry answered glumly. This would be the first time they hadn't spent the evening together since… well, since the night he had petrified Draco at the Manor and fled to Grimmauld Place. But before that it had been a very long time. "Nike," he told the Fat Lady quietly. He sent one last hopeful look at Draco; forcing a smile as the blond merely shook his head.

"There, there dear," the portrait cooed sympathetically. "Chin up."

Feeling tired and depressed, Harry bypassed the cheerful confines of the common room to flop onto his bed and shut his eyes with a groan. He figured it would take him about a week to get back into the swing of things and reestablish a routine of sorts. Still, as much as being in Gryffindor tower felt like coming home, it still felt a bit wrong that he wasn't in the dank familiarity of the dungeons. "Erm, Harry?"

For example, he'd had a bit more privacy to wallow in self pity while in the dungeons. He didn't bother to open his eyes. "Yeah Ron?"

"You have a visitor?"

"A vis.." Harry turned his head, confused, and stared at Draco lounging in the doorway to his room with a look of fixed disapproval on his face. "Draco?"

"So this is the lions den?" Gray eyes swept the room and found it wanting. "It's very red."

Harry ignored the slight, zeroing in on the object held securely in the blond's hand. "Flowers?" he questioned with a smile; feeling something akin to happiness flutter inside him. "You brought me flowers?"

A slight flush rose up pale cheeks. "Well, you are a Gryffindor. I decided not to include any poisonous blossoms; this time, at least." Carefully, Draco levitated the cut crystal vase of flowers onto Harry's bed. "Keep them by your bed when you're ready to go to sleep."

"All right," Harry agreed happily. His smile brightened as Draco pulled a large block of Gorus Glas and an ornate bottle from his robes and settled them next to the vase. "Vin chaud," he announced unnecessarily. "In case you get restless in the middle of the night and need something to help you sleep."

"Sure you don't want to sleep up here with me?"

"Not hardly." Draco rolled his eyes; though he smiled gently as he pulled Harry close for a hug. "The poor little Gryffindors would worry their virtuous little heads all night long and keep checking on you to make sure I hadn't murdered you in your sleep."

Harry grinned. "Just think of all the havoc you could wreck if they saw you smiling."

Draco released Harry after one last hug. "Some other time. Play with the little lions, reassure them their hero is still alive and in their midst, and then come back to the dungeons." He looked disdainfully at the windows as he walked reluctantly towards the door. "It's far too bright up here."

Dean smiled bemusedly at Harry's end table as the boys trooped inside the dorm room. "What's all this?"

Harry smiled down at the flowers. Large bushy frongy looking things, long stemmed and fragrant blooms, textured stick thingys… ok, so he may not know what they were, but he could still appreciate the gesture. "Draco gave them to me."

"Oh," Ron nodded agreeably, looking at the diverse bouquet in interest. "What are they?"

"Umm…" Harry tilted his head to the side.

"Flowers?" Seamus asked uncertainly.

"Shouldn't there be roses?" Dean asked. "It's supposed to be romantic to send roses. Or something."

Ron snorted. "Can you really see Draco Malfoy sending roses to anybody?"

"The bouquet is romantic enough."

All heads turned, startled, at the quiet voice. Neville flushed brilliantly before gesturing to the crystal vase. "Rosemary sprigs to ward off demons and prevent bad dreams. St. John's Wort to drive out evil. Marjoram to promote dreams of the one you love. Sage to promote longevity and mental capacity. Lavender, the herb of love, with the power to conjure memories of other times and places. Gentian to calm hysteria. Echinacea, used by Native Americans to aid in purification of body and spirit. Sweet Flag, a tension reliever; and Valerian to reduce stress, irritation, and pain, while naturally inducing sleep."

All the boys turned back to the vase. "Huh," Ron offered.

"I would guess that Harry was either nervous or scared about coming back to Gryffindor tower and Malfoy wanted to make sure he knew he was loved and had sweet dreams." Neville shrugged bemusedly. "Much more personal than simply sending roses."

"So," Seamus looked confused. "Malfoy's still a bastard… but he's a nice bastard?"

Dean nodded. "Makes sense. Harry and Draco getting together kinda defy the laws of Karma or something." He shrugged. "Why shouldn't the man be a walking oxymoron?"

Neville shrugged, turning to his own bed. "The only one in the bouquet that confuses me would be the Savory."

"Savory?" Harry looked at the busy plant Neville indicated. "What's so confusing about that? It's an herb, right?"

"Well, technically all of those are herbs." Neville's voice was muffled as he pulled a t-shirt over his head. "But the genus's Latin name, _Satureja_, is attributed to the Roman writer Pliny and is a derivative of the word for satyr; the half-man half-goat creature that roamed the ancient mythological forests." He smiled affably as he climbed into bed; missing Harry's start of surprise. "But, then again, they are also rumored to regulate your sex drive as well."

Harry grinned at the vase on his end table and prepared for bed.

HDHDHD

Sad day! My last review challenge for this story...

Slytherins: Why would "Momus" be Severus' password?

Gryffindors: Well, their password could mean two things. One Muggle, one mythological. Thoughts?

Ravenclaws: What's Gorau Glas and why would Draco deem it an appropriate gift?

And kind of a weak Hufflepuff question (sorry!) But why would Vin Chaud make an appropriate gift for a date?

This was the last full chapter of the story I had planned out and rather than being certain of the idea, I am merely kicking around the idea of whether or not to write an Epilogue of sorts to it or just leave it here. Thoughts?


End file.
